The Silent Pyre

Sparrows beat their wings aloft

And creep amidst the noxious frost.

They cast their shadows on the ground,

And shroud the luxuries we lost.

 

The turn of man unto his end,

He flirts with self-destructing trends.

And stunned, he stands in ghostly towns

As clouds of ash and flame descend.

 

The sun will set the world ablaze,

Whose light will shine on dour days -

A sparkle in the melting crown,

A pyre as the time decays.

 

For action makes the word sincere.

But those who weep won’t shed a tear

When silence strikes the grieving down

And feasts upon the deafened ears.

 

Towers wilting, seized by rust,

And crops all crumble into dust.

Curtains close and actors bow,

But emptiness will writhe and thrust

 

The world into a skittish tilt,

A thousand futures unfulfilled.

Seconds idle, springs unwound –

The clocks have stopped and time has spilled.

 

Though peace resides just as professed,

The earth can never dream to rest.

And no one’s left to make a sound,

For all who lived were only guests.

 

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