What Lies Ahead
Beyond half-baked stars, shedding tears that hang in the air
like echoed chandeliers in flight
around the dust-filled landscape of depravity, that launches carousel of suffocating souls, eating the coverings off their bodies to qualify
for soul ships in attendance.
Through the forest of pulsating ground, hitting harder with steps
for the toppling of war dogs; the ravages of textured neglect,
weaves with vengeance.
Cities squirming from heightened hysteria of numerical prowess
of the orderly kind
fiery eyeballs, oozing matters of pain and suffering.
Skinned arms shattered from fragments embedded in want unreceived
battered skulls computing the science of death, knocking open doors.
Voices stuck in chords of distress at the mountainous terrain of abuse.
Desolate accolades storm a brightly-lit sky for choirs of angels
to settle in fluff.
Moving clouds evacuate the pearls of languages, seeping down from on high. Rained rocks are thrown to fend off creatures of scorned earth
deepening patches of holes for the rinsing.
Everything gives way to nought, and what lies ahead.
