Pyre of Golgotha

Blood red flames fly through the sky;
Regurgitated remains return to the sea.
Sand and grit collude in the air
As bones rain down on the beachhead.

This beach turned Golgotha
Shrieks, wails, and moans.
Muscles quiver and quake as
The wind blows through the bones.

Fleeting lull
Swiftly wrecked.
The wind goes unheard.
Whine of the missiles,
Screams of mechanical birds
Drown out melancholy cries
From each body that dies.

Sullen fingers splay sunken in sand
Scratching for solidity in a slippery land.
Purchase gained through agonizing depravity;
Pulled to position to peer over the precipice.

A scattered wasteland of blood and gore,
As I drag my belly over glass.
Beyond mere physical pain now
That I have witnessed this death en masse.



I never knew stone could bleed
Nor that seas could cry.
Trees scream their protest
and sand is silent in reply.



Eruptions reign the horizon.
Carnage ne'er ceases--only calms.
Shoulders slump in supreme defeat.
Which bastion do I abandon?

A neuron fires with ultimate reason.
A capillary bursts with fiery passion.
Feelings flare; Thoughts thunder;
Trying to sate their personal hunger.

My head--so rational.
My heart--so full.
The answers forever unfound.
Veins pulse blood
While an axon's thunder crack sounds.
The clash of necessity and desire,
As moths dance 'round the Pyre.

Miniature meteors spiral from the flame.
White wings singing through air
Turned brown by the time they touch the ground.
Victims of passion with no cogent care.

The wolf slowly emerges from the shadows
Inspecting burnt pilots without shedding tears.
Watching the moths from the bowels of Golgotha,
The stars in his eyes betray yearning and fear.



I watch from the precipice; helpless,
No finale in sight through the haze.
Transfixed by the carnage; confused,
Life draining away as I gaze.