The Trees of Palmyra
The Trees of Palmyra ,
….shade a broken road.
A rocky and ruinous route to the avenue,
Of Cyprus trees,olives and dusty stones,
Bloated bodies lying against golden sand,
There I see, hanging necks,
and splintered bones.
The sickly scent of frankensence and flesh
Rotting in the sun for the carion
Ragged and circling,
eyes keenly fresh ,
Ignorant to the life the vultures bring,
The tireless cleansers of death.
I hear the rumble on distant roads,
I hear the melee in the marketplace,
I hear the sound of silence coming,
“cattle” forced into the bedroom…
…Drill bits against holy plates.
Murderers! Hear me!
Your evil will not play on.
It is doomed.stagnant.introspective.
You will be picked off,
by your mobile phones….
Your enemy is to great.
twisted destruction of the “holiest” script.
Will send your souls,
through the hades gate.