Keys to lock the doors
they didn't wish to see. Masters hidden
secretly away. Trained to rise at every
feel of pain or sympathy. Attack! Attack!
The guided missiles of their famous infamy,
invisibly would fly through lands ethereal
to man. Undetected on the radar screens,
producing inner screams of agony.
Strange - how they complained
at every the backlash of the power
that they spewed into the atmosphere.
Unseen, it baffled even them at times.
Shadowy, the reprojected horror
that they felt, returned in amplified
efficiency. The strain began
to wear at them. The edges
became frayed. The pain that they
created had come home, this time
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2002 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .