Boneyard

Staring beyond the depths of the cup in my hands
Into a past I long to know
The view from atop the boneyard pile
Is a steep descent into rolling madness.
I cannot avoid what demands to be known
Or the call of a horizon stained with blood
That cannot be washed away by a thousand rainstorms.
So I stand atop these dust-filled shades of lives past
The sickening crunch I’ve grown used to
Grasping this cup as a tether to a ship
Tossed in seas that never calm
Beneath winds that never die
And I see beasts slumbering among the stars
Moving slowly in the twilight of other worlds.
My voice is thunder calling out to them
‘Come forth and gaze upon my deeds.’

Image by tdfugere from Pixabay

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