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End Of Time
#WritcoPoemChallange
#CoronaVirus
The days too eventually fell silent,
No sounds, not even by the crows,
All you could hear was the sound of, Fear,
Fear and knocking on houses' doors, that sound became my feeling, it became my new name, because it started to consume me.
This fear was intense, the most powerful feeling I had ever felt.
Fear that no one would come and no one would answer the damn door.
This feeling soon became more then just a feeling, it soon turned into knowledge.
Knowledge that the people had meet up with their fate, the world had meet its' end, and time was gone. Time was no more. Time had run out.
Door after door a tap, tap, tap sound and motion was viberated through the houses' front windows. As the windows became still and the sound waves left the front rooms. I waited and waited but no one came to the front door; no one came to say,"Hello, how do you do."
So, with a sigh I would turn a 180, I would walk down the porch steps, and turn to my right or to my left. Streets all vacant, the streets still empty. I would walk down the concrete side walk, and to the next door neighbors'.
Each house turned out to be the same, nothing, nothing at all happened. All where empty, all where silent. Not a soul moved nor breathed. No one made a sound, because the owners where nowere; they where nowere to be found.
The wind still blew and the newspaper looked like tumbleweeds as the breeze rolled them down the street. The grass in the front yards' of the suburbs still swayed. Yet, this is all that stirred, besides me, this is all that was left to move.
The doors loomed like tombstones, the houses felt like coffins, our neighborhoods had become the planets graveyards.
Where had they gone?, I asked myself? What had happened?
With the ergant need to know? I began to walk fast, then faster; then I began to run.
The doors became a blur, a red one, then a green, I lost count after number 50.
My sight now sketchy and my lungs burning, I stopped and stood still, I placed my hands on my knees breathing hard and panting. I tuned my ears to nature and listened as hard as I could. All I heard?
Nothing, nothing, nothing at all. Like on Christmas not even a mouse stirred, hell!, the birds had even fallen silent.
The neighborhoods, the houses, and the doors all looked different, but where all the same, because the same thing happened; none of them where opened.
The whole world had gotten scared, then had gone mad, had gone indoors, stayed at home, but then at some point all had disappeared.
Where in the hell had they gone? I just didn't understand.
Home after home, I hoped and I hoped, someone would answer, someone, anyone, would come to say, "Hi, what's the matter?"
I could'nt imagine what had happened. I could'nt fathem the possiblity, that everyone had left but then I stopped in my tracks. Something started to come over me. A memory.
Soon, a realization hit me, and
I began to recall something that people tried to teach me, as a child, in Sunday School. On weekend mornings when my mother dragged me to church because no one was left behind to watch over me and I was to young to watch myself.
Lessons where taught and morals harped on, over and over, until I felt, they had damn near brainwashed you.
I dismissed all that was said, as nothing more then mere bible stories; fairytales, of the strange and powerful. Happings that blew everyone's minds, No one could explain, except that it was a miracle; the only possiblity left.
Such as a man named Jesus, that was born of a virgin, and died on a cross. A man that loved us so much he spent his hole life dedicated to spreading the word and walking the earth.
Then came the stories' well known end, Then the whole point, get saved, get saved right now, before he comes back! Get saved, get saved, before it's too late; before.....Time runs out!
I would walk out the classroom with my friends, already cutting up, and laughing dismissing what had been preached as mere propaganda.
How I longed for some words from those lessons to be told, how I longed for any words to escape someone's lips and hit my ear drums. I longed for someone to help me, someone to be my friend.
Still nothing happened and no one came. As exughastion and fear over took me I fell to my knees. Tears escaped my eyes and fell on my cheeks.
I cried out, "Jesus please save me, save my heart and my life," but nothing happened; as I new it would not.
I was too late.
I was way too cool when I was young, to ask him to forgive me for my son's and what I had done. Now, what had been warned against had actually happened. It was true; not merely a fantasy. It had actually happened, Jesus had come back and raptured the church.
I was too late, I had waited to long and now everyone that I had known had gone on and I was all alone.
#CoronaVirus
The days too eventually fell silent,
No sounds, not even by the crows,
All you could hear was the sound of, Fear,
Fear and knocking on houses' doors, that sound became my feeling, it became my new name, because it started to consume me.
This fear was intense, the most powerful feeling I had ever felt.
Fear that no one would come and no one would answer the damn door.
This feeling soon became more then just a feeling, it soon turned into knowledge.
Knowledge that the people had meet up with their fate, the world had meet its' end, and time was gone. Time was no more. Time had run out.
Door after door a tap, tap, tap sound and motion was viberated through the houses' front windows. As the windows became still and the sound waves left the front rooms. I waited and waited but no one came to the front door; no one came to say,"Hello, how do you do."
So, with a sigh I would turn a 180, I would walk down the porch steps, and turn to my right or to my left. Streets all vacant, the streets still empty. I would walk down the concrete side walk, and to the next door neighbors'.
Each house turned out to be the same, nothing, nothing at all happened. All where empty, all where silent. Not a soul moved nor breathed. No one made a sound, because the owners where nowere; they where nowere to be found.
The wind still blew and the newspaper looked like tumbleweeds as the breeze rolled them down the street. The grass in the front yards' of the suburbs still swayed. Yet, this is all that stirred, besides me, this is all that was left to move.
The doors loomed like tombstones, the houses felt like coffins, our neighborhoods had become the planets graveyards.
Where had they gone?, I asked myself? What had happened?
With the ergant need to know? I began to walk fast, then faster; then I began to run.
The doors became a blur, a red one, then a green, I lost count after number 50.
My sight now sketchy and my lungs burning, I stopped and stood still, I placed my hands on my knees breathing hard and panting. I tuned my ears to nature and listened as hard as I could. All I heard?
Nothing, nothing, nothing at all. Like on Christmas not even a mouse stirred, hell!, the birds had even fallen silent.
The neighborhoods, the houses, and the doors all looked different, but where all the same, because the same thing happened; none of them where opened.
The whole world had gotten scared, then had gone mad, had gone indoors, stayed at home, but then at some point all had disappeared.
Where in the hell had they gone? I just didn't understand.
Home after home, I hoped and I hoped, someone would answer, someone, anyone, would come to say, "Hi, what's the matter?"
I could'nt imagine what had happened. I could'nt fathem the possiblity, that everyone had left but then I stopped in my tracks. Something started to come over me. A memory.
Soon, a realization hit me, and
I began to recall something that people tried to teach me, as a child, in Sunday School. On weekend mornings when my mother dragged me to church because no one was left behind to watch over me and I was to young to watch myself.
Lessons where taught and morals harped on, over and over, until I felt, they had damn near brainwashed you.
I dismissed all that was said, as nothing more then mere bible stories; fairytales, of the strange and powerful. Happings that blew everyone's minds, No one could explain, except that it was a miracle; the only possiblity left.
Such as a man named Jesus, that was born of a virgin, and died on a cross. A man that loved us so much he spent his hole life dedicated to spreading the word and walking the earth.
Then came the stories' well known end, Then the whole point, get saved, get saved right now, before he comes back! Get saved, get saved, before it's too late; before.....Time runs out!
I would walk out the classroom with my friends, already cutting up, and laughing dismissing what had been preached as mere propaganda.
How I longed for some words from those lessons to be told, how I longed for any words to escape someone's lips and hit my ear drums. I longed for someone to help me, someone to be my friend.
Still nothing happened and no one came. As exughastion and fear over took me I fell to my knees. Tears escaped my eyes and fell on my cheeks.
I cried out, "Jesus please save me, save my heart and my life," but nothing happened; as I new it would not.
I was too late.
I was way too cool when I was young, to ask him to forgive me for my son's and what I had done. Now, what had been warned against had actually happened. It was true; not merely a fantasy. It had actually happened, Jesus had come back and raptured the church.
I was too late, I had waited to long and now everyone that I had known had gone on and I was all alone.
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