Posting Apocalypse

I remember now when times were more... safe
The rain simply came down in showers. Better yet, if you collected the water into a glass it would be transparent so that you could see whatever was on the otherside.
Waes crashed against shores as easy as lovers lips meet.
The winds were zephyrs.
The sun cast shadows of us in a gentle way.

Now I look forward to the present time. In fact, it's two days later. Now I don't know the difference between right and wrong.
I so desperately want to know who or what is keeping us inside, stuck like a mouse caught inside a trap, inside a dusty and dank basement.
One of us dared to yell out to one of the government officials polished boots to ask why were we inside.
We got an answer, quick and simple,
"Be quiet."
Followed by the sounds of ripping. Not the pleasant ripping of brown paper bags. Not that that has ever been pleasant, although in comparison to what we heard, it would have been a godsend.
This sound was far more sinister than I could possibly describe.
We heard the ripping and tearing of human flesh, cartilidge and bones - pieced together in the most sickening arrangement of music.

Jeez, I thought Hannah Montana was bad enough.

The screaming of a group of people clashed upon our pre-deafened ears harshly, like a couple of soprano's in a choir all on a massive high.
So we kept our mouths shut.