Shadows fleet by on the walls
Lit by the street lamps. Voices
Protest against the silence of the anchoring
Night. Blood is spilled. Opinions hushed.
It’s time for thoughtlessness to dominate
Innocents are assailed by brutal leeches; all
The impromptu reactions – a waste of the little time
Each of the people were holding onto.
With the bottled up anger venting like
A volcano eruption, evanescent lives
Were at mercy of the wrathful. Footsteps
Marched on uneven roads like a
If there was anything like tasting the
Thunder, it was happening now. Shouts
Echoed, making the innocent
Penitent of what they’d never done. The nuances in
The sky went disregarded by the mob.
Falcons swirled as if they were clouds preparing
For a tornado.
The night was destined to be rained
Grim shadows descended like sheets of
Precipitation, bathing the roads with a darkness
That made the street lamps surrender
And succumb to its power.
The birds attacked, their beaks pointing
Downwards, wings spread out, conquering all the
Space they had.
The night was destined to be rained with death.