murmurs and shrapnel xiv

The old man holds
a chain in his mouth
that chain leads
to your soul.

Laboring
struggling to get near
sneaking past security
to hold you once again
let the world pass us by
I’ll still have you.

A box, coffin sized
and made of stone
floats across the sky
catching souls
like
flies to flypaper.

For the good of the nation
be gracious in your defeat
applaud your leader
as his boot comes down
into your face
and
wipe that egg off your face
look spiff.

Yesterday collapses
into today
and I am left
joining with
the fading form of you
as you slowly dissolve
into the dust.

Top racketeers insist
new law enforcement procedures
will cost them dearly
and insist upon
a grace period
while they make
adjustments.

Ships that come at night
bear haunting figures
you will see only once
and never again
giant lanky ghosts
holding dim torches
lead you home.

Toxic fear
radiation seepage
spreading
faster than
heat or light
the terror
of a gentle snow fall
that turns into ashes.

The rider you cannot see
rides a headless mount
across the bones and dust
of yesterday
and prophesizes
the coming of the one
who will save us all.

– matt at shadow of iris