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The morning after....
Silence became the new sound. Laughters are
only memories now. No more children playing
in the streets, the swings sway with no one
around. Mother cries for her family in the
mist of a tragedy. Husband awakes with no
wife by his side, confused refuses to accept
so his life he takes away. Son is lost with
no direction. Daughter is missing from
her home. The morning after the rapture was
a surprise but we all knew about the thieve
in the night, silently taking away his
children, leaving pain and sorrow welcoming
tomorrow. The morning fog is a blanket of
sins that not even the sun can break through.
Those that were left behind have nothing to
hide, impatiently waiting for the moon to
shine. Bloody will be the color of venus,
taking all love away, leaving none to borrow.
The morning aftermath, I sit in my room
without a clue of the end of the world.