When Tomorrow Fell

Reads: 17  | Likes: 1  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

The night betrayed the slumbering souls, whose drifting and shifting dreams filled the darkness of the emerging day to be. The winds of time, shallow and muted, blowing gently against the eroding waves of memories lived and shared, and dreams dissolving and fading into the shadows of the night. And the sound of the sea, floating in the air, like a cry in the night.

WHEN TOMORROW FELL

By Al Garcia

The night betrayed the slumbering souls, whose drifting and shifting dreams filled the darkness of the emerging day to be.  The winds of time, shallow and muted, blowing gently against the eroding waves of memories lived and shared, and dreams dissolving and fading into the shadows of the night.  And the sound of the sea, floating in the air, like a cry in the night.

And it was before the dawn, when tomorrow fell, and left to be gathered are scattered and shattered dreams in a field of broken lives.  Like a thieve in the night, fate breached the serenity and refuge of uncompleted lives, to steal the breath of those who kept alive tomorrows, and kept the pendulum swaying, and the laughter and the joy echoing in the air.

How heartbreaking the view in the morning light.  How loud the cries of disbelief and lament for those who saw the rays of sun rain down upon the rising wisps of dust.  Broken and crushed blocks of stone, and twisted and mangled wires and steel, holding captive minds and hearts, and broken souls, while exhausted and wearied rescuers reach out with outreached hands, and hope filled hearts. 

And like the night that betrayed the slumbering souls, time deludes the hope that clings to battered and assaulted lives that cannot see beyond the stolen dreams, and to the days that lay ahead. 

When tomorrow fell, so to the hearts of those who mourn and hear the soundless screams and quiet whimpers of reluctant acquiesce to the call of destiny.  The profanity of the moment forever etched into the inconsolable minds of those who fought to believe in miracles, despite the passing hours and days that seem to never move beyond the frozen moment that stopped the rhythm and the cadence of beating hearts, that nurtured the blossoming of tomorrows, and of the seasons lived and shared.


Submitted: June 29, 2021

© Copyright 2021 A.Garcia. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:


Facebook Comments

Other Content by A.Garcia