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Ashes on the Wind

by Drew Dunlop about a year ago in nature poetry
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A dark fantasy on an antebellum

Ashes on the Wind
Photo by Benjamin Lizardo on Unsplash

There are clouds off in the distance,

But there's not a hint of rain,

We, the path of most resistance,

Smell the smoke we can't explain.

And though the adversary's thinned,

We see the ashes on the wind.

The east is glowing red with anger,

And it's hours still 'till dawn,

With our fiercest cries and clangor,

We stay steady, ever on.

And though the best of us have sinned,

We smell the ashes on the wind.

Won't be long 'till it's upon us,

Hands are shaking, wrath unstayed,

Nothing left for us to discuss,

Face it head on, unafraid.

'Twas a death's head to us grinned,

We heard the keening of the wind.

Nothing stills the savage fire,

Running at a gallop pace,

All around us, lives expire,

Just to keep us in the race.

Though we're shaken and chagrined,

We hear the laughter on the wind.

Now the earth is black and steaming,

Now we're shaken on the land,

Now we wonder if we're dreaming,

Those of us who can still stand.

Die is cast, we can't rescind,

But still, there's ashes on the wind.

nature poetry

About the author

Drew Dunlop

Drew is a poet and author, writing slightly ominous fantasy-inspired poetry! He does that when the rest of life allows it, so read up, and more will be forthcoming.

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