In A Fury of Pure Hatred

Screams pierce the night, as sirens wail against the blasts that light up the darkness in a fury of pure hatred. Smoke smothers the air. People seek to flee, running in desperation, but with no destination, except away… away from the blasts and the stench of burning flesh.

How long? How long has there been warning unheeded? Warning mocked as mere delusions of some? How long has the laughter rolled from the lips of the all-knowing and all-enlightened ones? Does it now matter?

Hearts pumping wildly as sweat flows freely. Blasts closer and closer. Breathing loud and labored against the sounds of people stampeding in blind flight. Away. Away from the nightmare and the murder surrounding and encircling. The nightmare devouring hope, with lungs fighting frantically for the next breath. Just one more breath. The breath that doesn’t come. The awareness of suffocation.

The terror. The tears. The prayers.

Suffocating. Falling. Numbness. Nothingness.

A silence that no one hears.