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170 of 365

He drove on,
far away
from our woes.
In the distance,
I saw bombs explode,
Coupled with
A Mystical mirage
of hope.

I sheltered my eyes
From the glare
Of each blast,
Hiding from
My impending death.
Our upcoming doom.
The mirage was all
He believed.
The bombs
Were all I saw.

He drove on,
Far away
From our fears.
He tried to
comfort me
With his tight grasp.
But the blasts
continued to go off.

Tenderly,
He inched me away
From the fright of
Our death.
Our approaching end.
So when the truck
Knocked us off
The road,
I had my eyes open,
I saw his eyes open, too.

We had moved on,
Far away
From our woes.

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