And the Sky Screamed
I'll never forget that dark twisted face in the distance,
Its midnight moonlit finger tracing a path to my door.
A thousand locomotives seemed to roar in my ears,
Then I heard the sounds of so many gun shots.
No, it was the window glass popping from their frames,
Its powerful breath was quickly upon me gripping me.
Those walls began to spin and the ceiling flew away,
My eyes cried as tears were ripped from my cheeks.
I yelled in terror and its horrible voice screamed louder,
In flight within my own house I knew death was near.
So was this the way I would travel to heaven?
Then suddenly it became so very quiet.
That violent spinning monster had lightly set my home down,
This man had stared straight into its giant ugly eye.
For an unknown reason it had decided to spare me,
To this very day I still swear it could think.
Copyright © 2014 Robert William Gruhn - All Rights Reserved
"A poem to me is the essence of any thought,
Being built from its foundation into tower scraping sky.
It can fly like no other bird to places never seen,
Even spaceships can only dream of taking its place."
© 2014 Robert William Gruhn
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