The Feeling [unfinished]

Act I:
She has a feeling deep down,
One that is twisting her gut.
It stings more than the blow
Of a thousand knives.
It burns more than the singe
Of Hell’s most precious flame.
Doubled over, she cries out.
Almost feeling more idiocy than pain,
For she knows no one is listening.
Yet still she wastes her breath
Maybe someone will open their ears.
But will that be enough to convince
Them to open their hearts?
The feeling is rising,
Slowly creeping up her throat.
She tries to swallow it down
Deep down, to where it belongs.
Unsuccessfully she watches
As the feeling forces itself up
Through her mouth she dared to open.
All she can do is lay limp,
Feeling nothing but defeated,
As her bright green eyes watch
The feeling come to life.

Act II:
A black fog lurks the streets,
Coiling around the feet of pedestrians,
Suffocating the lifeless movements
And disappearing into the shadows.
Nearly invincible, it blends into a corner
Of two abandoned buildings,
Each with cold bricks and wild vines
Climbing up every which way.
The black fog begins to form
Into a much more solid figure.
From gas to liquid- science at it’s best,
The fog soon is no more.
A thick, liquid substance
That much resembles crude oil,
Begins to grow two limbs.
One limb from each side:
Both with a growth at the end,
And then five finger like limbs from the growths.
Virtually, the ‘oil’ forms what it has observed
While in its last state of being, lurking streets.
The growths resemble human legs and feet,
And with the new limbs,
The feeling begins to climb the vines.


Act III:
All of five; she turns out the lights.
No night light tonight,
She has to play make-believe.
Pretend for a while she does not exist.
Using her imagination,
She hides under her bed.
Her ears wide open,
Her eyes tightly shut.
She listens to the screaming,
The crying, the destruction,
All but a floor below where she lay.
Her ears pick up a sound so soft,
The coo of her baby brother in the adjacent room.
Superwoman at the age of five,
She crawls as quietly as possible
To the cooing child slowly awakening.
The mission is almost complete:
She carries her brother back into her room,
But once where the bed existed,
Where they both were to play make -believe
There now was an unknown substance.
Waiting. Simply waiting.
Superwoman and her immobile sidekick
Are not prepared for what is about to come.