His graceful paws
Hit the forest floor
crunching the dry leaves
in an everlasting night
running so swiftly,
faster
then faster still
moments full of grace
with nothing
but the moonlight
stroking his gleaming fur.
But then they came,
with iron titans,
crushing and burning
the great oak giants,
he ran,
faster
to get away,
from the burning nightmare,
once his home
gone forever.
He then returned
to see what had been done,
nothing was left
of all he had loved,
but only boxes
which had swallowed his grey world.
Running away,
faster
then faster
then, he was gone.
Nothing left, but a memory.
Ariane Bezzina
