Where That Place Used To Be

The memories of the place bury themselves,

The damp morning dew and the fresh evening breeze,

And the sweet, spicy smell of herbs,

And the cedar wood burning in the hearth,

These words are fading away from a chapter called home.

 

Parakeets, and hummingbirds, and seagulls nest,

On tall redwoods and white oaks reaching for the sky

With chattering tongues, flying over the busy town,

Where the bright shades of the rainbow bring out a smile,

Now sullen, sad and lifeless, they only face more dread.

 

And soon they’re drowning, feeling the lungs burning and gasping,

The waves swallow the island and its inhabitants’ voices echo,

Slowly, and coldly, muffled. The water distorts into nightmares,

Familiar, yet unfamiliar. All life is now taken, all colours dulled.

Darkness takes the throne as the currents are washed away.

 

The sky always set aflame and the stars nap on the dark blanket,

Mocking their fate; their punishment for mistakes they didn’t make.

Heat set fire to the ice, and seas expanded to oceans, the water rose and rose

And submerged the land once blooming with life, snatching away its light.

That island used to be. Now it rests, lost under the sea.