The curtain falls
That blocks out all reasonable thought
And he crouches
His hair long, clothes worn
Face masked behind that war clay
He waits
With fear churning his heart.
His hand strengthens its grip
On the chewed spear
His breath quickens
Snap, a twig meets its end
A warning to what is coming
He rocks on the balls of his feet
Lips curled back
Snarling like an animal
He waits
With panic strangling his heart.
All his notions
All his civilized ideas
All his dreams
Die on the red rock
Die in the Grin
Die in the smoke.
The light
Dances green on his face
Piercing through the haze
Lighting the Darkness
From the Monsters.
He crouches under creepers
Afraid of turning into one them
Confirm their similarities.
He waits
With hope clutching his heart.
No comments:
Post a Comment