At the forests edge, disaster;
Metal, concrete, stone, brick and glass,
Paper, neon, sound, and light,
Engorged the City with a thunderous silence,
Its people fumbling, lost in the light,
Deaf to soft susurrating summons, of leaf and bough,
Logic and reason blunt trauma battered hearts,
Which strained to find a voice,
In a City filled with emptiness.
But something now bulked the shadows with monstrous presence,
Fang and claw, incensed the yellow eye,
Rage propelled each pad of paw,
Inflamed the bang of blood behind the eye
Crammed the drooling jaw with prey imagined,
Rend of flesh, crescendo crack of bone,
Bloated ears inured to empty city drone,
Sweat, must, offal, effluent,
The Scent that drew it forth,
The prey before it, another City soon to fall.
© Greg Richards
Chapter 2 in Thunder, more to come.