Savior Absconding

At first, the only common being was the sky.

A shelter unsought but silently revered.

Under its protective shadow did the three wise creatures dwell.

There was an old man, a puppy and a child.

The first, feeble and frail.

Another, yelping and pale.

The last, a soul brave.

They lived blissfully, under the common blanketing sky.

Untouched by greed and hidden from disease.

A great deal of undiluted fervor, a gift from their worshiped savior.

Into his recluse, the first went.

The pale, comforted by its mother’s warmth closed its pearly eyes.

The last, clapped its palms, dissolving into its material entertainment.

All was well, for the embodiment's of purity.

Then came the test or judgement, a mystery one could not solve.

They stood upright, braving the call.

The Earth growled as the day came,

Little did they know, a threat to their life was the aim.

When the ground shook, the perspective changed.

The pale, a requiem sensed.

The frail thought and tensed.

The last sought the past and brought out the mechanized toy, his bundle of joy.

When something seemed un-right, its eyes widened in fright.

Rattling on its fused legs, the toy shook.

Within seconds, the room followed suit.

With a mouth tasting lead, bitter thoughts of danger swarmed the baby’s head.

As the buildings swayed from side to side, thunder struck the lacerated sky.

Rain and fire reigned over the collapsed dwellings as grief consumed the people outside.

The country drowned in panic and peril.

Trapped under the fallen debris, the pale’s eyes glistened in misery as its mother lay in waste.

The frail stepped out, shuffling on his aching feet in haste.

With one final attempt, the last pulled its leg out from the collapsed mortar, torn and bleeding.

Its cry, drowned in the night sky, unbeknownst and receding.

The ears picked up the screams as the pale trudged the wake of nature’s wrath.

It found the baby, covered in a bloody bath.

When it tried nudging with nose and teeth, more screams and cries came in reply.

In the great deluge of the collapsing city, the three wise creatures stood in wait.

The frail prayed for his end to be quick.

The pale sheltered under a brick.

The last comforted itself by the remains of its father, dying and sick.

Unspoken words rang inside them, fear of blasphemy long past crossed.

The ground growled again, writhing and cracking as people run.

Words of prayer, in plenty, were sung.

The three wise creatures looked upon the dying light as fatality became certain.

Their savior was absconding, admonishing a heavy burden.