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Grace?

Erm... I'm in a weird mood.
I wrote this while ignoring my English prof's compounding on the annoying nature of Middle English. I figured that since I agreed... *shrugs* I think I kind of stopped paying attention. Anyway...

It's growing.
I can feel it growing,
see it, hear it, watch it on the news.
It emerges from a cloud of dust
that eclipses the sun,
screaming and raving for blood
waving fists and torches
and pitchforks--
tearing down dark skin
muffled faces, black hair
beating bloody.

It's growing.
It stares from behind pale faces
leering through pale eyes,
its disguise.
Surging across the sea.
Shrieking through the skies.
Falling to the ground
with plumes of flame.
It's coming
feeding on choking voices
and fury.

It chokes us.
It will crush us
beneath heavy boots and sharp metal--
Screaming voices
Singing eagles
Close-cropped hair
and graceless ash.

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reeciebastion
chandri
Chandri MacLeod
Fantasi.net

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