I Have No Idea What I'm Talking About

On a night
Of unbroken calm
An unusual sight
Is show in alarm

A grasping hand
Turns the knob
Like fleeting sand
It's freedom dissolves

Torn glass falls
On windowsills
A startling call
Awakes their views

Twice removed
And once forgot
He sits and waits
For his blood to clot

For a warranted cadence
The sight was bleak
Unyielding, but hopeful
Pathetic; not weak

A fist raised
A hand was clasped
A voice was raised
Only to gasp

Born from yonder
On beckoned hills
A theater of thunder
Showed the glory of kills

Blood once drained
Refilled its' host
Merely a parasite
To what mattered most

A knife removed
Was used once more
Used or needed
To let souls soar

Not death, but freedom
Quick to cement
A payment, some glory,
The undoing of debt

Cracked beneath
The light shone clear
A request for a cadence
Of basking in fear

A theory once
Has come undone
The query setting
Like so many suns