they lived in the dark
once there were lights, power lines
now there are candles
the meaning of energy
they lost the information
Category: dystopian
Before
Within us.
The people of that day said,
“It’s a Primordial urge that will not cease“.
We fled.
Who we were and what we knew was gone
as they round up the masses.
Whispers.
The wind whispers of what we once were
before the madness took hold.
Flames
the indigo sun
scorching the land
a dispossessed heart
no more cares to give
the flames turn hostile
entitled to own this land
burning books is easy
a destruction of souls
satisfies a dark hunger
fueling the Flames
everything ends
not until the Flames find them all
In the End
In the end, we sit on a hill looking towards the sea.
There are no waves, and the air has a strange taste.
The trees whisper a dying plea, yet we do not have the strength to go on.
With a manic urgency, you say, “Give me your innermost confession so my soul may remember.”
I embrace you and say, “I’ve never liked endings, and I feel too much. Yet I cannot think of another way to spend my last day”.
Who will save us now?
Snow moves like mountain ash,
yet we look up too late.
Who will save us now?
Fate takes the snow,
makes it fall differently,
and we are whole.
We continue to move.
There is only death and decay
to leave behind
since the great war of 2046.
All that we loved
We had everything; rain-cloudy days, green grass on the hills, and the passing seasons.
Our beautiful home. Slowly and then rapidly, we destroyed all that we loved.
Now the lucky few found a new home of dust, rust, and the absence of rain clouds, season, and love.
Very Short Story: Examination
Dressed in simple cotton robes, six gathered around the point of examination.
They hesitated. All were too afraid to touch such a foreign-looking living thing.
Braver than the others, one touched a branch a thumb. All followed, touching the last two trees.
Sea Glass & Sandstone
Wading in the sea glass and the sandstone,
look for the place where you used to stand,
thinking back to every time we came here.
An image of you returns.
I cannot remove that image from my mind;
you continue haunting
my life, my mind, and this place of our own.
Wading with only beautiful memories of you,
hearing the bombs fall,
my heart and my mind yearn to see you again.
The Old Path
Between the cliff and the sea,
walking along a sandy path.
No, shells left for you to see,
nor the feelings you once felt.
Beautiful this place once was,
when we did not need shoes.
No heart in this place anymore;
destroyed by pollution and plastic.
The Last Song
Words spoken we feared would come
to spill out from old rusty speakers.
We never thought this day would come,
we always knew this day would come;
we did it to ourselves, and we knew it.
Words spoken, hurried tones to loved ones
for they will be the last words from our lips.
We stood and sat as the day moved along;
a last dose of intimacy between the two of us.
The record player sits still waiting for the album,
yet we cannot decide what will be the last song.
We play them all for the rest of the day waiting;
then a song starts to play we both love and
…
..
.
C & K 