It Started!

It started as a routine weekend in spring

dry and very sunny

heavy traffic buzz as the birds did sing

happy with no money

so young when love was all we needed

any warning never heeded!

 

Soon the late afternoon was upon us both

not noticing the time

just happy being in our own company

the clouds thickened

stopping as there was no sounds at all

except a faint call!

 

From a noisy street everyone had gone

no children’s laughter

empty ground where families played

just the two of us alone

above strange craft beams of blue light

the ground did ignite!

 

How we ran in a petrified state of terror

without a clue of the cause

near a railway track followed its route

hoping to see living beings

soon the lights were coming our way

we were somethings prey!

 

The railway station thenĀ came into sight

could see thousands

of humans crowded into a massive group

screams so mournful

creatures guarded with merciless intent

upon them cruelty did vent!

 

There was no resistanceĀ from any armies

they were in total control

without warning their will on us imposed

upon an unsuspecting earth

the beams seemingly erasing the population

a terrifying realisation!

 

These lizard like aliens were a grotesque sight

their numbers increased

as the human race disintegrated before us

from the intense glow

how we escaped to this moment do not know

man’s essence in rivers did flow!

 

The prophecy’s of a massive cull were true

not all were lost to the evil

a few innocent souls did escape the specters

determined to overcome

denying the elite their triumph and alliance

in the name of defiance!

 

Does such a conspiracy exist in society today?

 

The Foureyed poet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Track

There’s no more railway

here any more.

Never will it be back

that’s for sure.

It’s very pleasant there

a gentle pace.

of this you are aware

no need to race.

Nature is all around

you feel at ease.

With very little sound

but swaying trees.

In summer and the spring

creatures scurry.

You can hear the birds sing

so why hurry.

People walking their pets

there are runners to.

sometimes even high jets.

pass over you.

You feel good on this trail

no traffic near.

Riding over packed shale

where the airs clear.

The steam trains won’t be back

ghosts of the past.

A long the cycling track

shadows are cast.

 

The Foureyed Poet.

Published in: on 11/07/2007 at 23:31  Comments (1)  
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