The mist comes crawling in
Whispers break the silence
The clock bell strikes twelve
Doors lock and shutters close
There is silence and nothing more
A figure in the street
Walks door to door and then
There is nothing more
The sun is rising, eliminating
The bricks and rubble
Cries and shouts
Echo through the streets
But they can not be heard
For death has strut there
And taken them in
Never to see again
The whispers spread to the near by town
Tomorrow night it will be them
To enter deaths home
Fear creeps in through
Every crack and every cranny
the mind has been conquered
But amongst the death
There is a flower creeping up
Sending a message to the world
That there is hope
You just have to believe it to see it
Tomorrow night it will be them
To enter deaths home
Fear creeps in through
Every crack and every cranny
the mind has been conquered
But amongst the death
There is a flower creeping up
Sending a message to the world
That there is hope
You just have to believe it to see it
3 comments:
This sounds like a poem about the plague. Am I close?
I like the imagery in your work.
Everything you write is beautiful, I have read all of your posts and I'm amazed at the pictures you can paint with your words.
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