The Storm
There’s a storm commin’.
I can feel it in my bones.
The sky is pitch black,
Lightning flashes from cloud to cloud.
Trees loose leaves to the wind.
I have a feelin’ somethin’ big is gonna happen,
I just don’t know what yet.
I’m safe in my house.
Animals outside run and hide,
Looking for shelter from what’s to come.
The pulsing beats from the music upstairs ring out,
Anticipating,
Waiting.
All is silent,
For a moment.
Sheets of rain assault the glass windows.
The storm is here.
Water
It comes in waves.
The sound of water crashing on rocks thunders around me.
Wind whips my hair into my face, my eyes, my mouth.
The sound of my screams are lost,
torn from my lips by the wind.
I take a step forward,
Only to be crushed by a wall of water.
Everything is still, quiet.
Then all is black.
Shatter
I am woken from a dream-less sleep.
My world is shaking, crumbling, falling a part around me.
I am calm.
I hear yells from the streets below.
Cries of panic echo off of the buildings.
There is chaos, fear, pandemonium.
I feel nothing.
Lying in wait,
Thinking nothing.
I hear a crack, a shower of bricks.
Nothing.
Blaze
I feel their eyes on my face,
I do not care.
The penetrating stares of the ones who wait.
Harsh light stings my eyes.
The foul smell of gasoline reeks in the air.
I take one last gulp.
The nicotine from the cigrett calms my nerves.
Closing my eyes, I drop the cigrett.
As it falls through my fingers, I exhale.
An explosion of heat throws me backwards,
Head connecting with concrete,
I hear screams.
It is too late for them.
Shots
I hear them,
The multiple sounds of guns firing.
Then there is yelling.
The wail of sirens fills the air.
Walking to the window, I watch the chaos below.
He is there, lying in the middle of the street.
A woman falls to her knees beside him.
She is sobbing, screaming.
He is there, lying in his blood.
The color, now drained from his face.
Paramedics come, trying to save a life that no longer exists.
I turn away from the window.
I go back to bed.
Wild
Brown is the color of the leaves in the fall.
The color of grass in the California heat.
The color of dirt.
I can feel it squishing through the gaps between my toes.
The smell of O-zone fills my nose,
The sounds of the wild consume my ears,
The sights of the wilderness envelop my vision.
I am free.
Happiness
Our goal in life.
To be happy, satisfied, content.
But do we ever achieve this?
That all depends on if you let yourself.
Darkness
I can hear it,
I can taste it,
I can feel it,
But I cannot see it.
As my head sinks below the surface,
All is cut off.
Seeing nothing,
Feeling nothing,
Tasting nothing,
Hearing nothing,
I let the darkness consume me.
Impressum
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 09.06.2011
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