The Sound Beating

the air was thin, the air was thick

it wasnt the cloud, its the wind instead

there were men lying, with burnt skin and blind

there were people walking, and their hearts are blind.

was it fear or was it concern,

or was it just plain pure ignorance,

no one cared, no one bothered,

no one dared to take a step further.

 the air is thin, fore.

cracking branches, dimming torches.

litters on roots of hidden papers,

cutting mountains, brown earth soil water

no screams nor sound, not until later. 

the air was thick, so.

if lips formed, cried may be heard,.

if limps shown, will were be werent.

rooted there, rooted down,

not given chance, to create any sound.

the air was gone, now.

speak for the unsound, hear for the unspoken,

try see,  not look; not hear but listen,

feel for the leaves, fall for the branches,

the living might survive , somehow.

 the air may exist, then.

~21 aug '12