When the lights go out everything becomes clear

The truth is no longer obscured by radiance

but exposed to the scouring darkness, flayed alive

and put on display, hanging from the gallows

carrion for the vultures circling

The seekers will find it when they come to us

this harbinger of the fate they flee

an offering of refuge deeper into shadow

our symbol of the sacred, rocking gently in the wind

If I could live in any fictional world it would be the one where the USA isn’t infected with fascism.

Photo by Blake Weyland on Unsplash

10 responses to “Carrion”

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