It begins with tremors.
Leaves shivering slightly
With no breeze to push them.
The floor moving gently
Beneath your feet.
You can sense it getting stronger.
Your bones rattle inside
The fleshed case of your figure.
Teeth biting at the tissue
That lines your bleeding cheeks.
You know what's happening.
Does that make it worse?
You can't tell.
It's like you're falling past the dream.
It's like the stars have gone to sleep.
Bent over, eyes open, terrified gasps -
And you know that this is it.
And you know that there's nothing else.
Breathing's a pastime
You cannot afford.
Lights go out and turn on once more,
But it is all inconsequential
Because you won't see them again.
And now the tremors have grown
Into a riveting orchestral piece
That rips through you and ripples
With vibrations and screams,
And every atom collides in a
Fascinating display of fury.
You try to remember the smiles
And laughter.
Loved ones nearby,
Crying out and shaking.
You can't hold them anymore.
There's a captivating beauty in the
Pure and utter destruction that you
Are now subjected to -
No time to blink -
Night falls with the silence,
And morning never comes.
YOU ARE READING
the mind's recesses
Poetrywords that fell out of inky fingers, and stained the paper that lay on wooden tables.
