Nightmare in Frankfurt.

An emergency call from home.
When I rushed to my grandparents',
I saw the feet of two bodies,
Through the door of two seperate rooms,
In a puddle of blood.
I felt my heart stopped.
And I woke up.

Called home once I arrived in London.
Didn't speak about my dream.
Everything sounded fine,
And I was relieved.

As I grew up,
I slowly lost the ability,
To speak in the dialect my grandparents use.
Despite the reduced verbal communication,
Deep down inside we all know we still care.