A Violent Act

I just woke up
Years lost to ether
I am jarred alert
Through numb and fever
By the sound of shattering
An echo by the time I hear:
A touch familiar, a touch foreign,
Unseen, but certainly near
Intact no more, I follow drafts
I wander room to room
Amid broken glass interred in dust
But I know this break is new
And the lights are blown
Debris is scattered
Photographs under foot
Retrace the shatter
In red tones streaming
From paneless moors
Blood on the moon
Castoff on the floor
Congealed in horror
Seized in fear
Don’t slide back to sleep:

Was there a murder here?