National Poetry Writing Month - Day 9
Wander through the wasted land,
Smoke and shattered stone.
Voices hang in static air,
With naught but want to own.
Sky stitched tight wire and ash,
Ground cracks with dusty hymns.
Trees obey decrees, shun light—
Bloom now on empty whim.
Oligarchs in mirrored halls,
Truth lost behind white gates.
Laws roll out like loaded dice,
Let loose by hands of hate.
Ghost appear, faces split wide,
With eyes like broken clocks.
Abandon all abandoned.
They’re deep inside my head.
Lanterns burn with oil light,
Signs all point within.
Every door turns to the throne,
Every word a wicked spin.
Council loves all flame and flood,
Name blue sky as a crime.
Blame the dirt when lights go out,
Keep the moon in line.
I wander through shattered times,
My voice so stiff with frost.
I wonder how much we have left,
And how much is truly lost.