A silver dragon streaming
of glory 'cross the sky.
Golden stars left shivering
within a lightened indigo.
Below, the dewdrops, glistening,
become a ghostly flow of misty
images within the afterglow.
Trees, abounding once in leafy
have melted in the fiery blast
and cast stark shadows everywhere.
Meadows full of wildflowers
turned to naught but ash, lie like
blackened corpses come to life
again within another gust of wind.
Craters scar the once green
as foreign soldiers come to pass,
reminding everyone that death is nigh;
marching past the many buildings
where once the children laughed -
now turned to only rubble in
this warring aftermath.
Rats begin to scuttle through
the wounds of burnt remains,
eating and repeating every pain
of gross endurance, left echoing
throughout the atmosphere, even
as the refugees begin to flee.
When suddenly a hush demands
we raise our eyes - and there on the horizon
a sphere of golden sunlight rises o'er it all.
Another blaze of light, another glory;
but oh the saddened story it must tell,
for humanity is bent on raising hell
into the bounds of its reality again...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home...