Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Crows Perform Their Own Mass

They've performed for the only one
That understands their obedience
Celebrating life for its own sake
Before the nightmare is begun
They conduct their own mass
Looking down from above
They stare blankly at it
A scar upon a land
It used to be fertile
It used to give life
But not now
It has become curse
A mechanical place
Gears and steel moving
Grinding and humming machines
In the midst of the desolation
A patch of green and overgrown grass
Ill kept and ignored by those it serves
But nothing lasts
Vandals or fools or unknown event
Causing devastation to the past
Tombstones pushed over
Desecrating the last sanctuary
Of the dead
Crows fly over
Hover above the cemetery
They remember
The darkest clouds
That a soul could perceive
Followed by the blackest night
The heavens have ever produced
The thunder rolling across the sky
The lightning crying out for vengeance
Every strike destroying someone's fear
Every crash of thunder
Shattering a dream
The tears of the night
The night gives birth to the day
Bleeding out the sorrows
Of our world
Inside out
Our world is flayed
Lost to our fears
Flooded in tears