amidst debris

to live amidst the debris of another failure in life
looking lost and miserable among the dead echoes
with nowhere to run or flee no escape from strife
when surrender is preferable under a rain of arrows
to cling to the dusty ruins scraps in bloody fingers
a sad spread litter of possessions flung wide and far
the desecration of humans a stench always lingers
wallowing in the dark depression to display the scar
to drop the dreams of hope down a befouled well
where they drown in silence so slowly underground
never reaching the frayed rope of the steeple bell
books of wisdom and guidance pages spread around
dead eyes half closed and dull staring only inward
the last life living in the skull split spit and splintered

jeg.

10/31/24