The Detached

The Detached

There are some crimes against mankind
that cannot be forgiven.
Those who dare to cross the line find
all their hopes are riven.

They are condemned to walk this plane
though death sets them apart.
Their hatred marks them as the bane
of every human heart.

Blackened with time, the worn tombstones,
tilting from disregard,
reveal the site of decaying bones
like sentinels on guard.

As darkness falls, the hallowed ground
expels these aged ghosts.
Vile memories, that have no sound,
move onward to their posts.

They steal beyond the undergrowth
to grassy, tree lined streets.
They're guided by an arcane oath
that never changes or repeats.

They choose only the innocent,
much like they did in life.
They whisper of their discontent
spreading their evil strife.

They devour dreams of sadness
with rancid, fetid breath,
and vomit forth their madness
in joyful hymns of death.

Infectiously, the seeds of doubt
sown in the midst of night,
find purchase and begin to sprout
and spread darkness's blight.

Intolerance and selfishness,
greed and gluttony,
spread until we each possess
hatred's capacity.

The walls we build are made of rock
mined from the devil's hall.
In anger we chose not to talk;
pride comes before our fall.

The evil returns to its grave;
there's no need to stay attached,
for we have become the enslaved;
we are The Detached.


Notes
An entry in "Stormy's poetry newsletter & contest"  [ASR] for April 2011
Prompt: Must use the words undergrowth, doubt, aged, worn, grassy, rocks, blackened, chose.

riven – torn apart.

Thank you for taking time to read my words. I would appreciate it if you took a moment and left a comment. Your reaction, impressions, criticisms, - yes, even praise - are all equally welcome.

Ken