ECHOES FROM THE LOST DAYS - Mandibles

a limitless end to an inescapable door
greed clawing at the frame hoping for more
fury gnawing at the bones charred beyond recognition
shattered skulls tossed with splintered shins
twine tied around the wrists
threads split as the knots twist
churning onyx waters below the pier
signaling that after forever, it is here
the rotting woods falls into the pit below
into the abyss that not even the omniscient know
every body turned inside out
the gloom muffling every shout
yet the rosy-eyed skeletons march on
no idea where they're going, nor where they come from
frightened by the beasts that they see
blissfully unaware that it lies within thee
the sands pour endlessly into the hourglass
the indoor flag strung at half-mast
snarled fangs and twisted flesh
gnawing teeth and snapped bones
everything and nothing in the cornucopia of the cornea
what point is light if we fashion it from the dark?
broken and repurposed, wounds leaving a mark
marring the flesh and tainting the bone
trying to create differing purity from purity alone
illumination that brought only strife
a life lost at the edge of a knife
as we march on to the deafning blare of the fife
doors stained red and green
stepping to the beat of our own machines
engine whirring that replaces hearts beating
cogs turning faster with the fleeting
hope that anything will cease to be
swiftly, resolutely, absolutely, and positively be
anything but this, something it was meant to be
but who says what should?
the old adage of knocking on wood
doesn't apply if nothing holds any meaning
blue vines wrapped around yellow trees bleeding
black ooze from the flowers seeping
deeper and deeper into the earth
as the ravenous maws in the dirt
swallow everything that falls within
devouring all without sin
for as twisted as it may sound
the jaws of a bloodthirsty hound
the snarled lips and gnashing fangs
in the ground causing large bangs
have a horrifying purity
that is more than we could ever be