Fog is everywhere,
I am unseen
And so are they,
As they sprint through the marsh.
A crowd of young boys
Is created at the mouth of a cave
All haphazard with brush,
As if it is a better protector than the mist.
I am shocked at how young they appear,
Some huddle to older siblings
While some stand a few paces away,
Staring and remembering their already taken families.
The fog is invaded by the light of the moon,
Exposing the frightened sons
As if playing a cruel game of hide and seek
While she knows she can never be caught.
Voices threaten to ambush them,
The youngest ones are hidden under thorny shrubs.
My heart shatters for them
As the thunderous sounds of despair draw near.
But the wind favours her broken children
And disbands from her mother,
Shrouding the boys in safety once more,
As the tell tale moonlight is vanquished.
The voices slowly disappear all together
Leaving behind breathless relief
As the young children find places to rest,
For now they are at peace until dawn.
YOU ARE READING
Contest Entries
PoetryI know I already have one of these, but this is where my contest entries will be from now on
