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The Vulture
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The Vulture |
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Honeybee Member Ascendant
since 1999-12-26
Posts 5372Ontario, CANADA 
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*This was a stream of consciousness assignment, we were asked to place ourselves in the shoes of another who has experienced war and write about it. This is how I choose to write about the devastating effects of war. The Vulture Escape. My spirit died long ago. I let it. The world is a window that never seems as magical and terrifying, as hopeful and despairing as it does through the eyes of a child. Remembering... the night devoured our town . When I was a child, I heard for the first time the thunder of a bomb. It's sound was so final and yet it seemed to ring on in my ears and in my mind forevermore. I felt fear for the first time, a cold, deranged fear in the gut of my stomach. I heard the sound of tanks rumbling through empty streets, witnessing the cries of fragile human beings whose voices dared to defeat the clatter of the mighty tanks but did not succeed. I saw the lifelessness in the shadow of the other children's eyes, in their fading existence that would cause endless nightmares. Staring at the bloodstained ground, the ruins, the shattered dreams, the broken spirits, the mangled minds - my insides turn inside out...my bones ache. Emptiness. I tell you solemnly I saw bombs light up an empty sky sky as if it was a sign to a world that did not listen, where the cries for help were ignored. I saw bodies, lifeless, on sidewalks that men used to walk upon, where children used to play...where children's imagination followed the endless beat of hopscotch, jumping from hope to dream, dream to hope. The more I look up to the vulture, searching for mercy, the more of my childhood I lose. The vulture embracing innocence, destroying life...took away my youth, my dreams, my family. What else could a child do? I have come to my end and my beginning. The sun rises, it's light penetrates my fragile body, the cold leaves my weary bones. I run and I run and I search, I don't understand why. Desperate, angry, confused, no longer in denial, I stare remembering through the inviting glass. I have children of my own now, safeguarding them from the vulture that still haunts my mind. It's peaceful, even in the lonliness. Agony saturates my mind. The laughter that once lived within is gone, thanks to the vulture. By Melissa Honeybee |
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| © Copyright 2000 Melissa P. Long-Monette - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Alwye
Moderator
Member Elite
since 1999-06-16
Posts 3850In the space between moments |
Melissa- This is vivid and very powerful. I could feel the vulture, see the horrid scene that you depicted. Wow...stunning work. I think you definitely deserve an A on this one! *Krista Knutson* There is a melancholy that stems from greatness. ~*Chamfort*~ |
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Dusk Treader
Moderator
Senior Member
since 1999-06-18
Posts 1187St. Paul, MN |
Excellent scene you have drawn here! The vulture is an apt analogy, and I think you have succeeded excellently in expanding that analogy. Greatly enjoyed, Melissa. You have quite a talent  A writer's soul is on paper etched. In flames I shall not be consumed, but reborn. -- Abrahm Simons |
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Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612Hurricane Alley |
Having seen many war movies in my time, I see the realism you portray here. Very good. |
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Saxoness
since 1999-07-18
Posts 1102Texas |
Honeybee, you claim to like my work, well, i have a similar confession...I like yours too! Always a good read. I enjoy it "Glory remains unaware of my neglected dwelling where alone I sing my tearful song which has charms only for me." -Charles Brugnot |
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patchoulipumpkin Member
since 2000-01-01
Posts 196Bermuda |
really good writing. excellent, i'm a big fan of stream of consciousness, so really appreciate this writing. Interesting analogy, the vulture. Feeding on dead memories. I like it, keep writing. |
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