'The Sound'  
 
The sky must have ripped,  
a hole for God to spy.  
 
Vibration ricocheted through ear canals,  
down spindly nerves.  
 
Midnight bolted first,  
then came Snow.  
 
Leg and shoulder muscles ignited,  
possession went full speed.  
 
We galloped for miles.  
 
Humans knocked over,  
they covered mouths and pointed.  
 
Wind fingered out manes,  
screams curdled and no full stop.  
 
Not for a minute,  
not for ten,  
we flew for sixty.  
 
A moving red box hit Snow,  
Her blood,  
It matched his majesty's uniform.  
 
All I could hear was that noise.  
 
The sky must have ripped,  
The sound.