As the young children play
Unnoticed: a storm’s -coming.
On a bright beUtiful peAceful day
Darkness’ mists into our lives come a-stealing.
As we slumber and sleep.
Death’s hand takes hold of the unwary land.
Over the hills, and the valleys deep,
The nemesis of arrogant man.
Lile a parasite takes a hold of its host.
The dark mist slips into our nostrils.
We have peace, but oh the horrible cost.
As the poison builds- it will slowly but surely kill.
Unseen raiders, steal away unseen in the mist.
First we splutter, then we choke.
And we sleep on in ignorance’s fatal bliss.
We wake to find death’s hand on our throat.
Too late, we try to fight back.
Screaming, we fight a futile war – for death is already inside
Despite our brilliant patch jobs, we forever crack
And then we find: our heart has long died.
Our victories have become our weakness.
Storm coming. Let he who has eyes open to see
Peace is merely a prelude of darkness.
Let the wise Flee the devastation to be.
Story behind the poem:
So, I’m really enjoying my holiday. Recently took a train through some mountains,and there was all this mist coming down and behind were huge storm clouds massing. That’s what inspired this poem.