Loathe the Locusts, by Crimson.Wings Subscribe to rss feed for <font color=darkred><I>Crimson.Wings</

The sky,
I remember when
its face
glowed with laughter.

The sun's arms
wrapped around me close,
held me tight.

Stars,
beaming with radiance,
posed for a picture,
smiled so brightly
I knew they had hearts.

I laid on the grass,
bathed in dew,
the morning's tears.

Tears of joy.
Tears of hope.

But now,
that is all
a frail memory,
and trying to
grasp it
leaves me weak.

Now,
the wolf howls incessantly
at a dark, demonic cloud.

No more smiles
rain down from the sun.

I knew it was coming.
I just wished it
wouldn't schedule its visit
so soon.

But now,
clouds,
clouds of deep despair,
kidnap the sky.

The moon faints,
falling, falling,
into a different world,
a different universe,
where the birds still
sing with hope.

And then my ears sense
what I fear the most.

The nebula can contain
its curse no longer.

Down, down, down,
the locusts of late
make their grand entrance.

Hundreds of thousands of millions
all cascade,
drench the Earth in repugnance.

A steady hum fills the air,
Swallows every last drop
of bliss.

The creatures of Mother Nature
behold the Hell
that has come to torture all innocence.

Gaping at the grotesque scene,
the animals shrink in terror.

The locusts have made their landing.

Greedily,
the monstrosities consume all,
devour trees whole.

I scream in horror,
stupid in my shock.

The devils
gnaw at my hair, my clothes.

I tear them in two,
stomp on their heads
with bare feet,
curse the day I was born.

I pound on the door persistently,
knock it down.
Sprint to my bed,
my haven in Hell,
hide under the thin sheets.

Where I go, they follow.

The story ceases here.
Posted: 2007-02-11 00:09:02 UTC

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2007-03-11 19:07:20Faith
Very interesting and rich imagery! The ending does not seem to match the rest of the poem though...