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United only by union,
a chain draped around our ankles.
Joints of a beast shudder,
like far distant thunder.
Power found in the eyes,
and lost to the mind.
Standing in the vicious howling wind,
we give our souls to the sky.
As wisps of disaster entwine the legs above it,
wings of gray smoke smother our lungs,
but they’re so majestic we stand in awe.
The world halts and gravity starts spinning.
Claws like whips bend back and scar the earth,
in the crevices between the wounds, we live.
The smell of fresh earth haunts us through the day,
and catches us at night.
Only escaping insanity by running far,
with the white stallion long gone,
what will we do?
©2007-2009 ~Serphaet
:iconserphaet:

Author's Comments

This is just an idea that I was turning around in my head, and I finally got it out. Please comment.

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August 31, 2007
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