Written in 2009
Chaos quivered at my feet, showing a justified freedom. The soundless voice now rings out loud. Pounding of shoes echo in the alleys. Now an army stands. Every brave soul believing and holding onto their beliefs until the end.
The old man’s creases held the grime of many years of labor. Perspiration covered his withered face. The wind picked up in his deadened field that once held fruitful trees. Now all that stands in front of him, are burnt branches, wishing their own lives to return.