Finale

Finale

A Story by YacobTihstea
"

another one of those love things

"
The day before your birth,

The world was set aflame with rumors that the sky would have a new artist.
We were all told that the sun had a new operator.
The rain was never going to be as over-bearing and upset again.
The meadows and fields that were once abundant here would reappear. 

I caught word that you could undo damage done by man.
He told me you were the new black.
She said your hair was made of solid gold thread.
A crowd went rampaging by; all but chanting your name.

News spread fast.

Vacationing families taking cruises in the pacific heard the water whispering your name, 
Every wave that touched the sides of a ship made the sound.
Men scaling mountains in isolation swore on their lives that the wind was spreading a message,
Every blizzard near a peak and every avalanche set in motion...
The screamed your name louder than thunder.

News of your existence went barreling across the world like a bullet.
Tearing through the skin of the world.
A gloomy, desperate, disappointing skin ripped to pieces.

All of this a day before you were born.

24 angry hours later, the sun was gone.
The sky played host to castle battles, leaning to and crashing into one another.
The rain came down in oceans of hatred.
The sky cracked and tore open, spitting fire into every available space.

Man turned on itself, outraged by the lie it had told.
A war broke out in one day.

Somewhere, in the midst of this angry and relentless catastrophe,
You were still alive, your heart beating peacefully to a rhythm only you knew.
You're eyes closed but still looking, 
Looking past the womb and out into a world you knew you could save.

Soon enough though, you were in a war of your own.
Something was trying to push you out, and something else was trying to pull.
You were entirely too comfortable where you were, and you certainly didn't want to move.
It was a painful experience.

Birth.

Not because of the physical pain, but rather, the emotional pain.
Torn from a peaceful little bubble of an existence, 
And thrown into a world of contempt and rage.

We saw you though.
We all saw you and for a brief half-second the entirety of mankind stopped everything.
That was all we really needed.
It took less than that to realize that not one soul had done anything wrong.

The sky collapsed, and it it's place a blazing horizon of color and charm.
Bolts of lighting turning simply into beams of light, falling to the earth with ease.
The rain became nothing more than a scent fading with time.
Fires settling into embers, embers turning to ash, ash dancing in the wind.
In place of smoldering remains were barely visible blades of green secrets.

I remember the day you were born.
I was standing on the edge of an isle, watching a wave march towards me forbiddingly.

"You're never going to leave this island alive." 

It had that written along it's crest, over and over and over.
I watched and waited.
As the wave began to close in though, it began to decrease in size.
It began convulsing and spitting and it began to grow small.
By the time it reached my feet it was nothing more than a gentle breeze,
Pushing the water barely over my toes.

I knew the rumors were true.
I knew and so did the rest of the world...







You were here, threads of solid gold and all.

© 2010 YacobTihstea


My Review

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Reviews

Thank you a ton! I'm glad you like it! This is one of my personal favorites, because of what it's really about and the way it sounds, and the irony of both really.

=D




Posted 13 Years Ago


This is simply beautiful. I usually don't read long poems I don't have the patience for that, but I found myself unable to stop reading. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. You so elegantly describe faith and the power of faith. Thanks for sharing.

Posted 13 Years Ago



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2 Reviews
Added on August 31, 2010
Last Updated on August 31, 2010

Author

YacobTihstea
YacobTihstea

Rome, GA



About
My name is Jacob. I pretend to hate but yearn to love. I like to cook, and I like to weld, and I like to write. The urge to write isn't constant, but I constantly write anyways. I secretly love t.. more..

Writing