Alarm II

The buildings burned in the view

of the calmed blue sea,

the forests catching fire,

bodies navigating a maze of smoke.

The orchestra of alarms, a grand

attack of flashing lights,

white sheets running low and soon replaced by strewn debris,

the wind whispered everything

but its respects,

the wind whispered soothing,

beguiling death threats,

and the sound of running, spluttering engines

mimicked bleeding, wheezing lungs.

The onlookers watched, cold,

voyeurs en masse, hands hungry

for the pockets of the dead, feet

salivating at the thought of new shoes,

tightly fitting and still warm.

Goosebumped arms unnoticed,

jewellery gone,

bodies left exposed

the guilt swallowed with the morning pills,

but equivalent to a dose of caffeine by evening,

cold ghostly hands

holding your eyes wide.

The slate wiped clean, it’s enough to find faux-freedom,

it’s enough to face the pain,

the disdain reigns,

and history

folds in upon itself.

Eyes red from the smoke,

a subtle sting,

bones in piles

where lost generations used to sing,

their voices fading

the future daunting

a society of zombies,

co-opted into systems

that survive by eating souls,

systems that eat homes,

systems leaving nowhere

left for us to go,

the coverage of the cold sun

marked as their territory,

it’s a wasted effort

if you try to run,

a loss of energy

we can’t afford to waste.