the sounds were heard from afar.
Even the tides of the ocean
seem to come ajar.
As the panic button was pushed
the people ran to and fro,
with stones left unturned
they made their way to the door.
The flowers in the fields took notice
some were withering in a row,
for the beauty they once had
was left to stand no more.
Tis now we meet at the crossroads,
standing at the blessed shore.
With the choices we have made,
can we safely make it through the door?
ML Hudson.