Sunset over the fields that day,
Spoke to me in such a way-
"Remember this, you see right here,
For soon these things shall not be near."
It was Thanksgiving day,
The Autumn way,
When birds would dance
And the skies were grey.
The sun was burning red on high,
Whispering the world will pass me by,
If I did not grasp the wind,
And commit that wicked, evil sin.
"Speak", it ordered, told to me,
"Tell this tale so all will see-"
"No!" I shouted as the sun fell,
"You can't make me!" I did yell.
So my voice died Thanksgiving Day,
And the world forgot their evil way.
About the Creator
Emily Marie Concannon
I am a world nomad with a passion for vegan food, history, coffee, and equality.
Check out my novel: https://www.amazon.com.au/Uncovering-Goddess-Death-Emily-Concannon-ebook/dp/B0F23XSW1D :)
I appreciate all your support and engagement! :)

Comments (1)
Creative piece, Emily.