The End of Oradour-sur-Glane

Gray sky laid low,
ash and steel inspired.
Walls of stone surrounded,
within them breath expired. 

The irony was sickening,
this sanctum reborn prison.
The devil was alive within
the hearts of men he'd risen. 

In green they mocked the tears,
in silence, still, but fraughted.
The men were burnt alive,
the children's bodies lotted.

Time paused, and silence fled
as metal burned through bone.
But silence would return 
as they set fire to the stone.