The sound

 

A far off scream rebounded round the streets,

Splitting the sound into a rainbow of echoes,

A grim kaleidoscope of primal fear and pain,

In a run down place no sane person goes,

 

A dark alleyway in the shadiest part of the city,

In the middle of the blackest part of night,

The dirty green glass of the streetlights failed,

To illuminate the source of this cry of fright.

 

The city’s lowlifes all heard the shrill noise,

Ignoring its existence the best they could,

They would all feel the noises rebounds soon,

As its consequences grow and start to bud.

 

The rotting foundations of this city shifted,

With the vibrations of this seismic sound,

the earthquake of feeling went through walls,

rocking this city on its swamp filled ground.

 

The self cleaning glass in the high rise flats,

And the stainless steel of the business district,

Cracking with the ripples of this mega tsunami,

As if the broken city was being dropkicked.

 

This habitat of millions was built on crime,

Public figureheads being paid to look away,

But even they heard this unearthly sound,

And instantly worried about their extra pay.

 

This noise of the purest sadness and anger,

Emanated from a particular large mansion,

Guarded by a crack team of big henchmen,

Making them immediately jump to attention

 

They rushed into the solid gold framed door,

Along the trophy ladened hallway they ran,

Passed torn bat capes and cracked iron masks,

Up the stairs covered with suits of superman.

 

They arrived at the bedroom of their leader,

And apprehensively knocked the wood,

Surprised they heard blubbering in reply,

One man opened it as slowly as he could.

 

The henchmen peered into the dark room,

Their villainous leader was sat on the floor,

Why did Game of Thrones end in that way!

Quietly his henchmen shut the wood door.

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