Swept Up

It was bleak.

Stark whites
on deep blacks,
then shades
of demented grey.

Everywhere —
piles of rubble.
Burnt-out buildings.
Empty shells.

Joy departed.


Approaching gunfire
made it clear
this was no haven,
even for the likes of me.

It felt unreal —
like an abrupt turn
into unending suffering.


Not far away
I noticed large, ponderous creatures
moving around
in a shuffling gait.

Ogres.
Giants.
Strange ones.

And all of us fools
to bear witness.


She was there too.

She kept her distance —
and who could blame her?

I was not exactly on her side,
but then
we were all trying to live.

Ultimately,
we pledged our allegiance
to the next breath.


More gunfire now.

Ahead,
a three-sided building —
its frontage completely gone.

Another ruined shell.
Skeletal remains
of brick and wood.

People huddled inside,
hoping for redemption,
for salvation,
for another breath —
then the next.

That’s what it all came down to,
really.

Clinging
to breath,
and whatever came after.


I watched as more frightened souls
ran this way,
then that.

A small boy
came running out
of the wrecked building.

He ran past me
as if his life
depended on it.

It did.


I couldn’t stop myself.

With macabre compulsion
I waited
for the inevitable.

It came
so quickly.

A strange beam of light
flashed before my eyes.

It grabbed the boy,
swept him up —

and they were both
gone.