Rain pours down

Condensation runs down the window,
In a pool of crimson.

The harsh jet clouds stare at me,
I can hear their mirth.

The hole in my head never seising in its agony,
The diamonds in the grass gather and sympathise,
How I loathe their sympathy.

Bullets from the sky shoot me down,
As they do everyone.

In the distance I hear a piercing scream.
I see Zeus’ weapons; they will devour the earth.

My last thoughts haunt me,
Who cares anyway?
Do I even give a damn?

The ebony calls me.
Peace at last.

Brigette Hosking Year 9