sing to me the song of ages
show me the golden cages housing broken birds
kept for show, and the needling reminder of victory and of truth –
that we stepped on the backs of the weak and needy,
reached heaven’s gates and dipped our toes into the nothingness behind them.
angels died for our hunger, gods
dug their own graves and ripened our fruits with their blood;
we made heaven bow to our command
flew into the heart of the sun and consumed stars
sated greed with gold and trinkets and i yearn for more. for wonder and fame and now
we have emptied the bowels of the afterlife, grown fat on its meaty gristle and i hunger, now. feed me another song, a tale of goodness
i shall never know.