I hear a rumble in the distance.
Storm clouds flood the blackened skies.
Hate causes the winds to blow cold.
I listen to rhetoric flowing
over metal and glass high rise mountains
and flowing fields of broken lives.
I grasp my ears, covering them.
The sound is deafening
like screams of innocence
that suffer for nothing but respect and love
and whispers of misinformed revolutionaries
preaching lies they were programmed
to believe as truths.
That is all there is though.
Loud talk of beliefs and nothingness.
Screams and whispers.
A long loud rumble, a deafening tone,
followed by a brief flash.
The thunder of this nation, this world.
One last cry for help.
In time even the voices in my head go mute.
Numb from speech of trumped ideals
and deleted promises.
Now it’s quiet, I can think.
I reflect on what could have been
then I kneel in the mud made of storms and ash
and rebuild the world we needed all along.
Craig Firsdon is a disabled Toledo poet and artist. He has been called Toledo’s Renaissance Man and has recently released his first book, a collection of poems, entitled Requiem.