Everyone sat still
the leaves and birds;
sheltered and protected…
The denizens of this strange land,
bore white skin and beautiful hair
and drew up a life beyond
with their unseen hands.
These drawings they hung over the bed
and went to bed smiling,
singing the unheard song.
Then along came a time,
when the creepers grew thicker
and it snaked in on the inhabitants
chocking them in their protected wicker.
Gasping and stuttering,
they stretched out for a hand ahead;
a hand stretched out in regret;
Regret screaming within their very eyes.
And the beautiful skin and hair just fell apart
as their dead bodies lie in a pool of sorrow
the unheard song playing somewhere behind.
But their golden cage still stands erect,
hoping to catch its next fly.
You stay alert, I must say
for you do not want to be a denizen
of this self-eating strange land.
spottypotterson 