Fool's Gold

A menacing silence


Roars of thunder sweep the plains

Startled, four stand, alert

A spark and a monstrous pointed flame.

The four run, cringing, weeping

From the shuddering wheels of thunder

Throbbing, shrieking metal flashes

Anguish and a scream.

A menacing silence

Smoke, darker than night, covers the plains

Two clean their wounds and count their hoard

The third, the last, hesitantly lights a fire

Distantly a scream of rage rolls

The third softly laughs

But shudders.

The End

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