9/11 by Rae Stephenson

In early September a dragon stirs.
Its fiery breath blazing through the skies.

A new hue of yellow brings a warning.

Unrecognised.

The monotonous world continues.
Grey mingles with red.
No-one notices.

It’s a simple journey.
The metal bird is strong. It is safe.

It was safe.

They know nothing of the crimson that has streaked their world.
They know nothing of the dragon’s warning.
They know nothing of the things it must do.

The metal bird flies.
The wrong way.

Fear controls it.
Eyes that burn with anger and hatred point to its new path.

The dragon dives down.
It’s life no longer it’s own to live.
A blazing inferno.

There is no grey. Only blood.
Falling.

The dragon breathes it’s final breath.

The red can breathe no more.

Slowly.
Spreading.
Staining.

Nothing can be purely grey again.