Student Publishing Program ::

Tom Garrity

Reflections

A pond.
Still,
but not clear.

Warm.
Verdant,
but not pure.

Contamination
has occurred.
Armageddon
lies within these waters.

The days pass without number.
Like the photons.
Bouncing, spinning, refracting
(the photons are, not the days).

Separated from their friends,
they give up,
and stop.

No light has ever
penetrated these waters,
to wake the demons below.

But now the heat leaves,
the surface hardens.
Solid. Pristine.

Disaster!
The ice, shattered.
A stone, sinking.
Ice shards, flying,
twirling, dancing, screaming.

The spell is fractured,
light delving, sinking
deeper, deeper, ever deeper,
to wake the demons forevermore.

Plague, contagion, loosed
from their shackles, they burst,
surfacing, the hunger of 1,000 years
heavy within them.

Ignoring the little one,
they spread,
seeking prey.

Panic.
No transmission vectors.
100% mortality rate.

No control.
20,000 lives flash before eyes.
every 10 minutes.

50% of the old
population is
no more.

The number grows
so quickly.
It cannot be natural.

Help not found.
Among those
still on the ground.

People looking
to the sky.
Fearful, for their lives.

The shining legions
are come.
Gold, silver, and white.

Lightning.
The wrath of those seated
above this world.

Untouched, and unfazed.
The destruction continues.
Piercing the golden veil.
The shining legions
are gone.
Winged bodies lie still,
mixed with those
they died trying to protect.

No hope is left.
The strongest wait
for their demise.

While the weakest
roll over and die
where they lie.

None are left to notice
one last child,
playing with his stones.

[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2012 EDITION]