With sorrow on my brow
And simpering, whimpering lips
I have a question in my weak voice
Breathing so brittle, like bird bones
I am the mockingbird with a broken wing
Crying out; dying to sing

In highlands abandoned
Where the missing people do not visit
Wasted places decorated jagged glass
Grey and brown plains without end
There was once a paradise in this world
However, time changes all but this girl

Looking back to this realm I hailed from
Eyes glazing over with nostalgia
My heart breaks regarding the bitter fondness
I just want to go back to my verdant haven
Because I remember the olden days
And all halcyon, lackadaisical haze

In the glittering past
So mysterious and unreal
The choices which have led to the present
And, consequently, the bitter and quivering
Question in my fragile voice
Where do the kindred spirits live?

Because I used to know
But they’ve moved on
These precious, flickering lights
For whom I call and call for
For whom I yearn for the return of

And now my words have died
Without smoke
Without a last sputtering of spit.
There are no ashes
No burnt pieces for me to keep.

And now my words have died
Without a last strong gasp
Without a mark of nails dragged.
There are no etchings
No last message for me to decode.

And now my love is gone
Without a residue of memories
Without any final words.
There are no photographs
No love letters for me to cherish.

And now my love is gone
Without a fight
Without suppressed emotions kept down.
There are no regrets
No second chances for me to go back.

And now the last drop of water has dried
Without a ring on the table
Without a crack in the ground.
There are no slippery edges
No soaked soil for me to collect.

And now all the water has dried
Without a river
Without a cloud of hope.
There are no oceans
No seas for me to reach.

I warn you my dear hearts
The end is nearer than you know.
The earth is dying
And so are our hearts,
Our insides ridden with cancer
Our blood drenching the hands of our friends.
The animals are up against us
Because we, we did them wrong
And mother nature furious,
Is breaking on us.

And I warn you my dear hearts,
Do not go, do not die
Without an apology.
All our lives
The lives we stole
From the genocides to wars
To the deaths we delayed,
I warn you my dear hearts,
The bodies we polluted
With our bare hands and thighs,
Do not, do not forget
To apologize
For all the blood we drank.

I tell you, I tell you
It is never the end of the love,
The disappearance of the words
That hurt me,
It is the fact that they went unannounced,
Silently, quietly
In my sleep
Everything around me died
And I couldn't even weep.

So cry out your apologies,
Your last words of thanks
The end is nearer than you think
So blow your horns out
As we leave.
We were a storm
A plague upon others
So go out with your hands folded
And pray all our sins
Are in due time forgiven.

These are interesting times
Blessing cursing each moment
Smelling like the '80s
Rhyming with the '60s
Cringing like the '40s
Gasping at '17

It's The War of The Worlds II
Man versus man versus nature and self
A free-for-all melee, just name it
Where bacteria and viruses
     and gas and atoms
Will be our doom in the end
But not before we've wreaked havoc

on all that we love.

A populace filled with totalitarian tranquility

The supposition that the world is in a harmonic homeostasis

Blissful ignorance that leads to careless calamity

Amid the uproar of the most populated of places

Therein lies the seed of humanity’s deceptive destruction

A solitary host housing a virulent virus

Infectious disease that proceeds crisis and corruption

Hope only stands with the powerful and pious

Prognosis describes communicable cannibalism

Rabid outbursts show signs of voracious violence

The harrowing pandemic leads to ceaseless cataclysm

Cities and towns suspended in systemic silence

Habitations riddled with gratuitous gore

Hope fades in the wake of the crimson carnage

The pestilent hoard feeds to a glutton’s galore

The Author of humanity publishes the final page

The closing verse rains down a rapturous recompense

The high cost of a dense population paid at humanity’s existential expense

Thousands poured into the Great Hall
Waiting
In this haunted, empty room
For something to happen

Nobody sat upon the throne
But order still remained
Maybe it was in the fear
That left them silenced

The throne was industrious
All blunt, sharp lines
Of cold, heartless steel
Fogging up as the peoples’ breaths brushed it

No heat in this desolate hall
Only people’s nervous, frantic heartbeats
Echoed through the room
Marking their place as prey

Footsteps followed
Each step
A quick, sudden staccato
Steady with every beat

The people spun around
Looking for the one that approached them
But there was
No one

Anxiety wrecked through the large hall
Rebounding off of the delicate stone arches
Sailing across the cracked, concrete floor
Filling everyone’s bodies with dread

The footsteps stopped
And their leader materialized onto his cold throne
His gaze held no emotion as he crossed his legs, staring at his people--
Who returned his glare with downturned lids

He bore a crown of silver
Glittering with the madness
Atop a thick forest of black hair
That you could get lost in

His eyes were a dark stormy blue
Appraising his guests
His people
That lay scattered across the hall

A slender frame
Overshadowed by a black velvet cape
And a white collared shirt
Pure of the injuries that he had wronged others

Form fitting grey pants slung tightly over his hips
Along with a matte hand pistol
Further accentuated by his knee high leather boots
That shined with the sweat of a thousand shoe polishers

He was their dictator
They were his people
With a snap
They rose to meet his commands

Without him, they were nothing

He called for disease
Infection spread rampant
the sick fell at his feet

He called for war
The clanging of swords broke out
And wet, hot blood began to coat the slick ground

He called for famine
Hunger gnawed away at the empty, acidic stomachs of the starved
Many fell, glazed eyes betraying their desire for food

He called for death
And suddenly the survivors fell
Only a hundred of the thousand had been left
To die at his feet

The hall was empty of all souls
But one
His

He commanded all that his people could give
And left with nothing to bear
But a single throne
Of cold steel
And an bare skyscraper
With a single, Great Hall

I was sitting at my desk when a bird flies through the screen, straight at my face. I smack it away from me and it bounces off the wall and onto my bed where it starts flapping around. I look back to the window and see another bird heading straight for me, so I slide it shut just before its body slams into the glass and then flops to the garden bellow. The bird on the bed is tangled in my sheets and is madly trying to free itself.

From then on my life was madness. Birds were slamming into my house and trying to break in and **** me constantly. The police and then the FBI and soon all organizations were involved, trying to figure out what was drawing these murderous animals to me. At first they had moved me around the state, then the country, yet no matter where I went it made no difference.  Day in and day out birds would pile up outside wherever I was 'hiding', killing themselves from slamming into the buildings. Eventually they brought me deep into a mountain but even still, this didn’t slow them down. As the weeks passed it was obvious that soon there would be no birds left on the planet. Winged demons from all over the world were flying to wherever I happened to be, all bent on trying to **** me. So many birds slammed into that mountainside that it changed the way it looked.

Once all the birds had died I was finally able to leave the mountain and live a relatively normal life, though quite a few people were upset about the situation. I was reminded constantly of what happened and the world felt different for a while, quieter, and cleaner. You wouldn’t think so but living in a city without any pigeons or bird **** makes quite a difference!

Eventually I settled into a career and had children and forgot all about it, as my days are now preoccupied with thoughts of suicide.