A cold wind blows,
softly through my soul,
with breathless whispers,
and cautious warnings.

Harbingers of tomorrow,
strung across my senses,
strangling my perception,
pleading to be known.

I can feel it coming,
striving to be seen,
the sliver of a disc,
breaking the horizon,
to blot out the sun.

My lungs burn and ache,
in a struggle for air,
stunned into silence,
as this vision is born.

How the vultures will feast,
on the wreckage left behind.

Take your neighbor's hand,
lest you lose the way,
stand together now,
for We are all that we have.