drenched in darkness.
Blood rivers shine,
under a copper moon.
Stinking corpses cover the ground,
rotting into the stony battlefield.
Roses and brambles claw at flesh,
revealing alabaster bones.
Ravens tear at the wounds of the living,
dying to join their fellows.
Angles look down from the sky,
shaking their heads at the thoughtless bloodshed.
A blanket of clouds stretches beneath me,
Lonely mountain peaks pushing through them,
like islands in the middle of a vast sea.
Vast horizons stretch on forever,
In any direction I look.
My only consolation: the promise of Home.
I am coming home,
The rolling hills,
To quiet country scenes,
And to the soft sheet of snow covering the land.
No more palm trees,
No more never-ending summer and scorching sun,
No more deserts of long-cooled lava,
No more dormant craters from forever’s past.
I can’t wait till we land.
I count down the hours on my watch,
Anxiously scanning through the holes in the clouds,
Hoping to spot the fields of cleared corn,
Tiny towns inside larger, county plots.
Anything familiar to my eyes.
Mountains show instead of hills,
Cities instead of towns,
Unfamiliar fields and ranches instead of modest farms.
I have to wait.
I rest my head against the seat,
Close my tired eyes,
And dream of Home.
What do you think?
PS. InSickHealth if you read this, no offense, Hawaii was BEAUTIFUL but I'll take snowboarding over surfing any day.