The Days of Old

grayscale photo of explosion on the beach

“Tell me about the days of old,”
Asked the little girl.
“Tell me how the giants collapsed,
And towns in fire whirled.” 

The bard hummed and strummed his citurn,
And his strings did tune.
“This is not a song for the weak,
But it’s before noon.

“I hope tonight you’ll soundly sleep;
Blame yourself if not.”
The young girl sat with bated breath,
Hoping to be distraught.

“Back before the nuclear fires,
Buildings did shimmer
And reached to lofty sky with spires
‘Til skies grew dimmer.

“The sun disappeared behind airplanes
Carrying the bombs.
Then cancerous growths emerged
On those who survived…”

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This was written for Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt #118, Song. I feel like this was left incomplete, but perhaps we’ll investigate that some other day?

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
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11 thoughts on “The Days of Old

  1. Jade M. Wong says:

    The last stanza in particular is so chilling. I mean the entire poem is pretty ominous, but that last stanza, I think it’s because it shows that the aftermath of the war will impact so many generations to come, that just because you’ve survived war doesn’t mean a happily ever after…

  2. Jules says:

    It is sad that with all the wars that the weapons get ‘dirtier’…
    How far must we fall before we can learn to climb up again.
    Your piece reminds me of a Star Trek episode where Picard ends up reliving a life of another man (in mere minutes years pass) before his world blew up, maybe not quite the same as with bombs, more to do with environment. The people who planted the ‘memorial’ wanted others to know of their existence. Perhaps humans need to do something similar?

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