The organs rang out in clamorous harmony…
An ode to silent horror in sound.
Then it rained blood and all the animals drowned. Their bloated corpses float along the avenues.
They float in from leaning, leafless woods. From windowless homes.
Crows sit on the wires, chanting dirges, threnodies, and coarse, hoarse elegies.
Indifferent and hungry. They wait patiently for the flood to subside.
Scurrying like vermin, people in a godless psycophantic crawl.
They hid behind the veil, and drained their wrists when the piped announcement came. They had no need for trumpeting angels, or angels of any kind. There were none to fall.
It was us and them.
We had inklings of a greater being(s), while they sat and watched us unknowingly flail. They rained their fiery blood and when the corruption ended,
They descended, heralded by the birds,
To reign above and below their crimson kingdom.
Poetry in the Dark 