The Skycall Drone Congregation

The earth on which we march on has lost all familiarity with what we remembered of dirt. The heatless flames have rendered its skin nothing more than a hardened leather of what it once was.

It was the day that the sky turned against us. The healthy azure shade of blue that we had all come to love is no longer anything more than a longing memory. The grey skies with their nocturnal faint orange glow served only to mock that which we held so dear.

The flames slowly yet deliberately crept towards us although we could not feel their heat. The only sensation was the disheartening shivers incessantly crawling up our spines.

The sky called out with a thunderous drone. The cresendo that was the harbinger of our ruination. We opened our ears wide and listened to the cataclysmic symphony, the final sound we would ever hear. First, only pain. Then, only silence.

It was the day that the sky turned against us. The healthy azure shade of blue that we had all come to love is no longer anything more than a longing memory. The grey skies with their nocturnal faint orange glow served only to mock that which we held so d

The sky was dying and we knew it. We also knew that when it passed that we, too, would meet the same fate. Alas, we were not perturbed by this truth. Quite the opposite. The certainty of the end was more comforting than anything else we had ever experienced.

Heads down, teeth clenched, and with malice aforethought in our minds, we set out. Searching for what has been forever lost and what will never have existed.

And although our quest was futile, we did not stop. We knew nothing but the driving force of glory, the burning disdain of failure and the single glimmer of hope that we may overcome all odds.

As the vermilion glow on the horizon caught our eyes, we drew our breath for the last time and marched forward.

The burning treeline gave us an unwarranted sense of security. We wallowed in our own false sense of well being, but always with the truth gnawing on the backs of our minds. A cicada buzzing inside each of our skulls.