How did we get here
to this world of
hollowed out horror
this growing red circle
of pain, thickening
As it seeps into all the crevices
of our souls
i remember the words
just a faint whisper on a page
will there be any faith left?
perhaps
but the crows will
peck at it
murder the edges
Mock the mourners cries
Dance as the stench of death
Fills our nostrilS
Muttering as we clasp our ears
against the toning
of the bells and their fluttering wings.
Yokoent.com Inkspot
#Godthoughts. Beyond Words
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