Paradise Barn

Paradise Barn

 

The hay overflows,

the brigh red paint glistens in the sunlight,

for red is thinework,

souls going in and coming out,

creatures in cages guarded,

waiting for midnight,

pitchforks dangling overhead,

shovels crying to stop,

for the pain hurts too much for them,

shambled roof of slate,

mockery is thrown at you,

distain trips you,

reputation takes you over,

a barn owl screeches in the background,

saddles dusted and worn down,

the window frames once filled with glory,

are now filled with cobwebs,

a snakes slithers by your foot,

and a cricket chirps upon your back,

not like you can feel anything though,

because you are dead,

and the barn is gone,

only burnt ashes remain.