The shades of dusk descend
with all the colors of the desert;
sand, blue sky, blood red.
Then they appear, the children
like ghosts, swathed in white
from the empty quarter. They come
fleeing the hell they left behind them;
the Lords Resistance Army.
They haunt the towns
each night, gathering
to themselves for refuge
against the dark rain.
The night commuters,
bus stations, churches,
grave yards and hospitals,
their only homes.
With the dawn they are gone
like morning mist
and bad dreams
to hide wherever shadows go
during the day.
