Para/Poem Challenge "Open"

Last night, a nightmare...

I journeyed
to a place filled with dead men
with little to say
who sat around a vanishing fire,
cleaning inane AK 47s,
dense bolt-actions,
obtuse semi-automatics,
and a Winchester;
men who got lost in their own maze.

Isn’t “man a little wind?”
And “love does or doesn’t breathe him?”

Then the sky sank in red and grey
on ignorance and stupidity,
thickening the shift of time
to a leaden pace.

“Thou shalt smile at all thy foes...”
And I do, yet pitying their shame
for here no miracle is cast
but headstones with acrid fame
of inept freaks’ bruised past
gone to maggots.

(Had to get it out of my system. Lol!)