The First Wave

Thunderous raptures of light from the clouds, emblazon my eyes with flashes, and cries from the crowds of hell erupt in my ears, tolling the bell of the damned as it crashes and melts in the fire of fears, still raging like an infinite sea of tears and broken dreams. I cry mercy in the night, in the reams of engulfing pain against which i struggle to fight. Screaming gods in black on horse back gallop from the skies, around them flies an army of immortal crusaders, their burning torsos tear through the acrid air with morbid passion, upon my thoughts this woeful wave of doom came crashing. Alone i was found, by refugees salvation bound, great masses of like-minded, like-hearted casualties of love and life, scrambling to escape the war of lost hope rife among their worlds. Battlefields beset with great flowing rivers of time encompass the besieged, the great unloved, dead like trees, still standing but with branches bare for all who sees, better pulled from the roots than chopped at the knees, more growth would only spur both erroneous love and fallacies.

 As weeping widowed wives of scorn, with plundered souls lay gently down their tears in the creeping dawn, whispering "gone, but not forgotten", men who once were drunk with power, in times of care and hope turned sour, beg at the feet of the givers of love as they eat, hoping for a crumb of words, or succulent slice of erotic meat. The essence of death can be smelled on their breath as they scurry for scraps thrown in pity. I lie forgotten, sheathed by rotting broken brethren much like i should be, but my eyes are fixed on eternity, for on this night the sky is deep, it's blackness echoes scenes in sleep, transfixed i stare into the heap, of stars who's gift is humbling. Only my will can save me now, i brace myself and take a vow, before the next wave comes tumbling.