Shrink wrapped in a breath-riled panic,

The violence was over

Before a word could be splattered

 

Blood covered like a trail of chalk

Unbranded up and down the waiting area

With broken glass slumped on seats

 

Drenched in split skin and broken nails

All the way down the escalators

And back onto the main concourse

 

Lining the ceiling in screams

As the rifle opened fire over and over

 

Concealed in warnings

 

You had warned me about

Half an hour before

 

Which I had stupidly ignored

Dismissing it as a gust of wind

Instead of a warning that

History was going to repeat itself.



(A Short Prologue of a epic Poem to start as part of NapWrimo in April.
There will be a second Prologue in March. Get in touch if interested in

getting involved. More Details http://ghoststoryii.blogspot.co.uk/p/what-is-ghost-story-ii_3.html)