Sensing the arrival of dawn, an
The assiduous nature of the oncoming sirens,
Myles can only hope for the disgruntled hordes to be set back before they find their way to her reticence. As outside one can hear the distant howls and broken screams as they break through the night like a shattering of glass. Next door, she can hear the chaotic mumblings of fearful men, as she imagines such creatures cowering beneath the wooden
tables with such pensive senility. As even now, their perceived notion of such protective walls are being torn down upon the city streets, while the droves of people make their way ever closer leaving their futile thoughts of safety ever farther behind. Even the sky itself, appears to be in a torrent of rage, as it mirrors that of the city below, all while the rain seems to passively fall upon the crumbling masses giving the city a sheen it had otherwise lacked.
Inside, takes on a wholly differing attitude, as the rumbling silence is only broken by the passive clamor of those around her. But even then it seems no more than the white noise one gets from a broken television set.
An the only company she happens upon is the thoughts that now pent up against the walls as if trying to break free. An much like the on coming sirens, one cannot help but worry over such a tragic demise that may soon come. Is she really safe in her towering haven, or is she exposed, much like a lone golfer when caught upon an impetuous storm. Either way, she cannot help but wonder how long these walls will allow themselves to be so disturbed before finally fallen among their brethren.
So now, when faced against such arduous druthers, she comes to realize that there is really only one true course of action. Escape... Escape from the white walls of normalcy, escape from her supposed reprieve that has been built up around her, as staying still could only help but delay the inevitable.
So Myles, now knowing her true course of action, begins to prepare for the incoming flood, and the imminent trepidation that awaits.
Monday, December 15, 2014
Wednesday, December 03, 2014
The sun now peaks below the horizon,
turning the sky a bright orange, that
reciprocates consummately with the fires below,
As the crowds, in turn, engulf each residency in partitioned groups,
To the right, lay a convenience store, adorned by broken glass,
that crackles under the pressure of the chevied mob.
While each individual carries an assemblage of
anonymous junk like squirrels gathering
nuts for the winter.
The streets, themselves, are not only covered
by the gathering horde, but by overturned
cars, and the flickering lights
of street lamps that lay
upon the pavement as if in a state
Off in the distance one can hear the wailing
sounds of sirens that seem to wave
in and out like the crashing tides upon
an emptying beach.
An as they make their way ever closer, the crowds seem
to disperse, leaving only a remaining few
to brave such consequential actions of such
a disheveled crowd.
While the sun, now buried beneath the horizon,
leaves behind the fractured lights of sirens,
an the incandescent blaze that now peppers
this befouled city.