The Funeral
I was empty . . .
And he was gone
swallowed up in a sea of white stones
The ripple bearing his name declared him a corporal
an identity worn, torn, and faded . . .
A buzzard peered over this sea
motionless . . .
Gripping a triangle with unsteady talons that
quivered and shook
Motionless . . .
because . . .
It could no longer fly, circle, pounce, and kill
but . . .
Could only spew venom
hoping to find a target
It was mere minutes before the buzzard sighed . . .
nary a tear at her lost prey
The prey who at her beckoned call
fed her . . .
Not only with his flesh but with his soul as well…
It was finished
And . . .
I was empty . . .
No related posts.
Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.
Are you new to The Divine Spark? Register and become part of the community. If your a registered member, please Login.
If you enjoyed this post, we invite you to register, leave a comment or subscribe to the feed and get future articles delivered to your feed reader.
Comments
No comments yet.
Leave a comment