The scream

I hear silent voices
Speaking in languages
I don’t even know.

The disembodied reach out
Holding the stillness
Crushing its petals.

Running down the aisles
They despoil the chapel
That once housed my dreams.

While the hollow eyed sentinel
Extinguishes the last flame
Beneath its granite feet.

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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