Out of all these fragments a message comes

the decayed whispering a constant warning

the consumed that tell of hungry mouths, gnashing teeth

crawling among them, over, through them

Claws in the soft earth, barely feeling

only rooting out more whispers to devour

Bent on reaching some distant, beating heart

deep in hills older than this land 

ready with tooth and claw to tear it apart

let the blood flow, wash away their sins

and all the broken pieces they left behind

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Is there anything about 2020 you’ll look back fondly on?

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Photo by Alex Dukhanov on Unsplash