tricerbug

When the foot prints are clear, And the smoke glides away, The snow falls down, In fine sheets of gray. Fire burns quickly, It consumes all. Trees and their leaves, Like a horrendous fall. Terrifying sight, Of the whole world ablaze. Lit up in crimson, By a smoke filled haze. The hissing of the fire, Sounds like a scream. You pretend that it's not. Just some horrible dream. A box full of tinder, All it took was a spark. The Earth is burnt now. Eternally dark. You felt the heat. You tried to hide. Your clothes caught the fire. So there you died. A pile of ashes. Scattered by wind. Consumed by the fire. Among the singed.

I'm looking out the window Or where it used to be The frame is broken now It's laying by my knee. Splintered beams of wood In every shape and hue Stand out against the gray sky Which is somehow turning blue Everywhere you look Are piles of debris Our lives took years to build In 40 minutes free It's funny how we invest So much in what we possess And when it goes away Our lives decay You're looking at my shoes Or where they used to be Now my feet lay bare and cold Stripped like bark off a tree My eyes without a tear Look up towards clouds White and clear. Once they boiled black as smoke And filled my life with fear. Now I'm up in blue sk

 Secret Agent David wiped his hands on his pants and entered the dim interrogation room. With its 1 way mirror, flickering florescent lights, and a gray table that occupied more than 75% of the concrete space, anyone would be fairly creeped out in there. Stepping lightly, David approached the table and pulled out the chair, he sat himself down and wiggled around for a bit trying to warm up the metal seat. Glancing around he suddenly remembered where he was and picked up a pair of handcuffs off of the table. After a few tries, it’s kind of like trying to clip a bracelet onto yourself using a tire iron, he finally managed to lock himself

Flying I don't have wings But I can fly This bird can't sing It soars up high Some place new Above the fray Therefore I flew By dark of night, or light of day Not fluffed or feathered Glides currents of air Completely untethered Flys without care Free

Flames of agony, Frozen fire. Broken breath, Brutal bruises. Scraping pain, Slicing blades. Wet with tears, Writhing waves. Raw relief, Releasing fear. Lingering limp, Lying still. Endurable ache, Empty and Fake. Just a horrible memory.