Water begins penetrating from around cracks in the ceiling.
Held within the box, two left from four in an ark of cats, dogs, and other small creatures.
The air cools and refreshes as moisture particles transform parch of smoke’s frequent visiting.
Fires raging every summer reissue warnings that this haven’s in the path of greed’s consumption.
Usually when there’s a threat, forest animals run from it, responding instantly to impetus of their instinct.
Were that I could be like them, instead of repressed shaking, fighting to remain human.
I know better than to abandon course: I must confront the thunder pounding at boundaries…
Picking up the battered sword, I strike until break through illusion’s encasement.
Water pours freely into the room, thirsty and drowning our sanctuary.
Feral winds rush to surround me as I emerge, filling my lungs – invigorating as they carress my face, welcoming.
The coming maelstrom shrieks its challenge, glowing eyes a rage-filled promise.
I must seek its heart for our safety. There, we’ll watch as what we’ve come to cherish is destroyed.
Candid Corvid Productions 