First Steps #WATTYS2016

When the Bomb Went Off

I was there when the bomb went off,

A plume of dark clouds splattering the canvas with black ink,

Sharp debris scattering into what was already broken

And though I had watched the clock tick down to zero for months,

I never noticed it.

I saw the aftermath once the bomb went off,

A slow release poison,

An infection with too many sources to count

And though I don't know when exactly the explosion occurred,

I know it did.

There was a bright flash when the bomb went off,

As if the explosion stole all of the light from the air,

Only now is it beginning to seep back in

And though it is struggling through cloud coverage,

I cross my fingers for clear skies.

The oceans have grown since the bomb went off,

Spilling over the land, their water cold to the touch,

Sapping warmth out of the surroundings, they're always opaque

And though I wish I could,

I cannot shine a light through them.

However, the tide has been moving out since the bomb went off,

Crawling back towards the horizon,

Though the worry is constant that the moon flips the force

And the tide rushes in fast,

I cross my fingers that nature will keep working to push the murky waters away,

Though the time is not unlimited.

The same sands that will be uncovered as the water retreats

Fall through an hourglass, creating a dark circle on the beach,

Glistening like the nerves and tissue the bomb ripped through on its journey to the muscle.

Malicious in nature,

The pupil of an eye without the glint we see in life,

But with the familiar blink to entice curiosity or exploration.

It can sweep through its victim in a second without a traceable root,

Forced out only through measures proportionately drastic to the situation

But just like no terrorist will ever win the war,

No evil will ever win the battle,

It will not win.

It will not win,

Because I will not let it.

I was there when the bomb went off,

It is of bitter consolation that it was not me,

But I saw its effects nevertheless

And though I may not be the victim,

I carry the regrets.