Loathe the Locusts

<font face=georgia> 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.