These three red horses ride to the out reach of our vision. We watch them sink the blazing haze of the sun. Becoming nothing but a fading silhouette of elegance. As we watch them fade, the world around us becomes of a fire of its own.
Unwavering anger pours upon our home. It cannot be explained, except that what is happening before us, is the consequence of natures lack of sympathy. It has been nine weeks since a drop of rain has fallen.
The animals have fled, even the snakes have found homes elsewhere. We have become barren, we have lived off this land in peace. Yet here we stand, forced to face the rage of earth. It's heart has become heated and it wishes for us to cede to its wild temperament.
Our crops, gone, our homes, matches for the earth. The fire grows with apathy, its ravages our lands with no sign to cease. We have no tools to fight, no place to run, and we are trapped. Engulfed, the skies become blackened, chocked with smoke.
We watch as our modest village becomes the victim of earthly violence. The sun, shrouded in a veil of black smoke. There be no wind to lift it. Our flesh becomes glazed in sweat, our bodies reacting, hoping, such action will save us.
But we are ensnared by the lucid flames that dance before us. I can feel the blood in my flesh begin to boil. I cry, but tears will suffice for nothing. Earth gives no second thoughts. It will rage till it can burn no more. Till the flames have diluted our bones and bring us to its roots.
Till the soils are scorched and the sky, is but a sheet of ash.
We must be aware of our surroundings so that we may prepare ourselves the best we can, for there is no warning of tragedy.
Hurl your heart into more short and intense stories in, A Man's Traveled Heart
Coming soon, The Bleeding of Words.
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