The day bathes the land in red,
Upon the rise of a furious head.
Without pause and without rest,
All are made to challenge the best.
Never a moment goes by without fright,
For none can escape this blood red sight.
The land cries out for more and more,
While we are left battered, broken and sore.
Harsh it will be as it rises ever higher,
Drowning us all in its deep crimson mire.
We are but specks beyond his eternal red throne,
Running the gauntlet down to our very last bone.
Life shall continue on within this churning sea,
Only time will tell if we shall ever truly be free.
About the Creator
Toby Heward
Creativity is boundless. We are gardeners that bring forth these fruits of wonder. Nature is my passion and I love to help readers see the stories with their own eyes through my works. Whether its poems, fact, or fiction I bring it to life.
Keep reading
More stories from Toby Heward and writers in Poets and other communities.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.