"Black Gold" is one of the September Writing Challenge entries that was chosen to be a featured story.
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away,
the stars fell from the sky,
burning,
turning into grey stardust.
All the stars fell from the sky,
because some other human-like monsters burned and dropped them,
turned them into fallen, long-lost shine and magic
to torture the people,
told them it was a matter of revenge and protection
but it was just to stop them from looking up the sky.
And then, there were no stars for the people to look at,
no light at their never-ending night,
no moon, because it was hidden for fear that the monsters would drop him too,
no hope, no reason to look up the sky to dream,
to pierce the veil of sadness
but just a suffocating darkness,
spreading the devastation all over.
In a galaxy far, far away
bombs started falling, guns firing,
people dying.
Loved ones forever lost,
parents grieving their children,
sorrowful kids calling their mammies at night
wishing they’d comfort them from their living nightmare.
The monsters kept on going on,
bringing beasts with huge tongues that spit out fire and death
destroying homes made with love and the hope of a happiness,
vanishing all memories,
filling the minds with frost,
extinguishing the warm fire that ran through the pour victims’ veins.
In a galaxy far, far away
the only birds that fly upon them are metal,
making loud, deathful, harmful roars like lions thirsty for blood,
hungry for meat,
causing people to hide in ruins and homes foreign to them
and their need to find protection
make them forget that these cold dilapidated shelters
will soon be destroyed by new bombs,
causing their death once more.
Millions of eyes are watching the people
through a dull brainwashing black box
that seems to matter for them much more than the sadness they’re watching.
The galaxy is far enough for you
to think that is nothing of your business
but close enough for its people to reach you on foot
despite your indifference and meaningless hate.
They overcome every obstacle
still risking losing,
fighting for at least one breath of freedom
venturing everything when they have nothing.
And after they have left their once loved galaxy,
coming closer to what they believe will be liberty,
filling their heavy aching hearts with hope,
on the impulse of the moment and the devastation
new monsters, masters of manipulation and deception,
wear masks, white and shiny, smiling ones,
use words of music; tell them they’ll help,
put them on boats, throw them in the sea
and torture them for the millionth and last time,
drowning their beautiful hearts and minds
and making them realize one second before their angelic wings grow,
that the world is only full of monsters,
eating your flesh for the black gold.