The king cried out war to the masses
And war was delivered in parades through the streets
Banners proclaiming destiny to follow to the ends of time
And front lines slaughtered only miles away
Separate from the throne room, and so unimportant
Save the numbers lost to the cause of victory
Tear down the executioner
Place him on trial before the ghosts he sacrificed
It’s a need for order that demands we forget 
What heroes passed before us in searching for 
Exultation that seeps from voices out of consciousness
Whispers that side with the enemy
And so tombstones scoured to hide the other side
From the realization that we are the rebels
Fires lit when arson was the voice of the multitude
And our actions were the hand of evil
Now the voices of good light fires of their own
And fields burn which once held the key to exaltation

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I fly back to Seattle in the early morning tomorrow. I’ll try to keep writing/posting something each day I’m travelling, but no promises!

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Image by Andrew Martin from Pixabay