Something looms over the mountains to the north. A dark cloud like rain in the sky. |
Mongolith J.L Hunter That distant thrumming Up over the hill. I lay awake at night Listening to it’s awful sound Like thunder Though dreadfully soft A living thing breathing in And exhaling death all around it. Black clouds issue from it’s jagged mouth Steam pilings pour an inky darkness. The air is oddly warm. I am close to the thing that is called by some The devastator of worlds And ruin. Mongolith it is. A word from long ago, meaning one who rises and then falls A word for Gods. Pain, as I enter it’s realm Nothing but my pack to my side Half a water skin dangling like a limp bladder from my shoulder. My temples throb as I near the black, thick smoke That is the thing that will surely kill me Alive I come, for dead I leave. All around me is ash and blackened steel That jut out from the ground like unmarked gravestones Litter the earth for miles wide. The sky is gone Long ago did it vanish, within tendrils of smoke Like grimy fingers reaching into the clear blue sky There is a haze in the air For along the breezy wind Along with it carries poison fumes. Despite the aching of my lungs I press on for a purpose I have forgotten Perhaps there is not reason Why I travel onward, toward the lifeless marsh Of dust and bone And war torn land. |