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When We Set Foot On Dry LandThis story may contain adult content. |
| Written by Kasi | |
| Monday, 19 May 2008 | |
 I tear through the brush of the greenest stinging grassThe clay beneath- waterlogged, permitting me a torpid pass The wind yells crescendo as I leap into the night I realize I am going places where there may be no moonlight What is this hammering I hear, an internal drum to my fight Stealing my breath this mistress of sight The air exhales its vast lung Pushing precipitation that may as well have been slung thru the barrel of a gunMy ears do not believe what visuals I perceive A minds needless race, execrable thoughts; I need to get away from this place Never look back, feeling heat from their flame They are much smaller than me, though I fear them the same Babbles and chants I cannot comprehend Speaking only through actions, non violent till the end Dances so soulful send your spine a barbaric chill More horrific when you realize what to them is a thrill Faces painted for battle splattered with mud At closer stare I noticed their faces were stained with blood Starting to accept I may not live through the darkness Trying not to think of what evil can be harnessed A snag from a branch all tattered with thorns has torn my skin Percolation of vital fluid, my strength has begun to wear thin I discern that my arduous limbs are giving in, This contention for deliverance makes my judgment spin. I take refuge behind a dense philodendron It’s under growth teeming with insects, they have no choice but to be stepped on I listen for voices the silence is thick, I think back to my boat torn apart stick by stick If it hadn't hit those rocks, I could vanish, quick I reminisce of the moment we set foot on dry land Contemplative pride, solace at hand I looked at her and she at me, Then I recall we once were three. Had they escaped or been taken captive Made into slaves turned adaptive I bethink. I could feel the sting as her eyes hit mine When we ventured through the brushwood And stumbled on to the barbaric shrine Torches flickered an amiable flame No moon tonight, only rain Sheets that showered a cloud had burst I felt for her hand and expected the worst Then the pound, the echo, the drum I looked at her once more and told her to run. We made tracks thru the mud simultaneous as one I thought our journey together had hardly begun. I sit here now with this pang in my chest My sentiment for her I attest. To Be Continued. Copyright 2008 Kasi |
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| Last Updated ( Monday, 19 May 2008 ) |
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