So here we are again, another Wednesday and time for Friday Fictioneers. Have a look at the link and follow the other great participants.
The end it came with lightning speed,
And upon the wind we felt its need,
Its hunger fed on bricks and mortar,
Quenching thirst with rising water.
The darkness came and I could not see,
And yet I sensed what would never be,
I would not scale those mountain tops,
Nor fly on wings o’er gold-tinged crops.
I would not walk through lilac vales,
Nor hear of whispered fairy tales,
I would not sing of loves embrace,
Nor feel its breath upon my face.
For hope was lost, its purpose wain,
Like carts forsaken in the rain.