Soon Enough

Take the purest creatures,

precious spirits,

holy and pure...

And crush their tiny spirits,

pound their dreams into the dust.

Kill the very light inside them,

And murder their blessed trees...

until you drown them in their screams,

and bury what was free.

Now you have it.

There you go.

And these are the cursed,

pain-filled ones...

That walk about like morbid zombies,

weeping in the day...

But in the night,

return renewed,

strengthened by it's way.

Reguvinated,

by the moonlight.

And stricken by this thirst.

A need to feed their ravaged bodies.

A need to be made whole.

They set about,

on bat-like wings,

With somber tomes in mind.

For you have vanquished everything...

that gave them hope in the Divine.

But now they feed alone at night...

Stumbled by this way.

Wounded shadows,

emerge from sight,

Only to fade before each day.

And they leave their mystery,

only to these...

That know the solemn truths.

That they will find,

after they've dined,

Upon the lot of you.

~6-26-17