Upon the morning I Wake
Upon the morning I wake. My
Bones ache, as one many years older than I.
An hour walk toward the zenithing sun.
The skies opened, as mine eyes absorbed the base of the mount.
The community blighted in its shadow. The past ends here for me.
Ahead only spectors of a hidden doom.
The dry lake, a portent breathed out
The mouth of dragons.
I walk upon graved trodden ‘neath
The feet of dragons.
My steps bog down, laden by realization.
Only the Earth is old enough to remember
Those birth pangs of justice
Echoed as extinction.
Dante gnashes his teeth to rend flesh from bone.
Atomement for sins committed.
Alone he sits in the cold.
Nary let the truth remain.
The sparrow sets aflight.
Encompassing the last dream.
Hurries to his sanctuary.
Traversing to a plane I cannot imagine.
I can hear his voice calling to me.
I cannot follow.
Denied my birthrightx forehead covered in ashes.
Quizically, the sparrow cocks his head.
Shrouded in innocence.
It cannot envisage my inability.