Doomsday Field
A Dream by West Parker
Suspended by thick chain, Doomsday Field
Miles above a vast purple sea of final escape,
barbed wire encasing the trodden hell-meadow:
an island in the sky
//
Monstrous apes gallop with the speed of mares
Hairy knuckles the size of their meaty skulls
Pounding the knotty grass
a cacophony of industrial rhythm;
//
Enticing me to let go,
the coarse rope already slipping between my sweaty palms
Hanging above, I am nothing more than
Meat to this land
What’s a release but to feed fate?
//
Terror drips down my mangy hair
Burning my wet green eyes,
Blinding me of my horrors below
on that field of farewell
//
Drop!
Down, quick, down,
Feel the wind pierce your skin
Surrender your fears
Unto Doomsday Field
About the Creator
Westley Parker
Writer! Poet! Amateur film maker/photographer!
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.