We can only wait
As they wash away.
The scars from cuts
Too deep to bleed
From when we flew astray.
The velvet sunset touches down
Far beyond our gaze.
Sinking slow it surely knows
Why it is this way.
The darkness follows closely now
To grant the world reprieve.
But setting out
We look within
To find we cannot see.
The dismayed son
Has lost the one
He held within his reach.
Cursed to live
With less to give.
Stolen through the breach.
But light was found.
We turned our view.
Time was not the thief.
They had returned,
The sun in tow
To free the world from grief.
For all our love
And all our pain
We leave for Time to keep.
About the Creator
Erik Johnson
I live in the American Midwest and am in need of some good fiction.
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More stories from Erik Johnson and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Fuchsian Expanse
Chapter 1 - Ascent Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. I wish it were true. I wish you could look a man in the eyes as he begs for his life and hear nothing. But they’re wrong. The brain has a way of connecting the dots. You see the contortions as your mind spins around like a carnival. You wince as the body twists in agony, piercing the vacuum with a desperate concoction of emotion. You hear something much worse without sound. You hear something that thrusts into your brain like a thousand needles; an orchestra of discordant strings in a crescendo suddenly ceasing all at once within a fraction of a second. This conjured terror is louder than any audible scream and feels colder than any crevice of the Earth. The sound of a dying scream through the air on Earth is a warm lullaby compared to the death rattle heard within the vacuum of space.
By Erik Johnson3 years ago in Horror
Rage
Content Warning: Domestic Violence, Assault Rage D. A. Ratliff “Who did this?” My voice echoed through the house. All I wanted was a cup of tea, but one of the twins, running through the house like maniacs, knocked it over. My nerves tingled, and every muscle in my body felt coiled like a spring. Survival seemed out of reach.
By D. A. Ratliff6 days ago in Fiction
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