Ravenous Rising

 I witnessed a mighty gathering,

the taking up of spirits.

 

The battle last night

proved long and hard;

a war, waging, raging.

Smoke billows skyward�"

a funeral pyre in the distance.

There is mourning in the land,

and on the bed of their tears I stand.

 

I witnessed a mighty gathering,

the taking up of spirits.

 

Unleashed from struggle

to be raised heavenward,

but little release this is.

As they linger, linger, linger…

a requiem’s last cry

hangs in the air like an un-breathed sigh.

They are drawn and fragile,

they are brittle and frail�"

searching, shell-shocked, and pale.

 

I witnessed a mighty gathering,

the taking up of spirits. 

 

Silent were their shrieks.

The sun that warmed my own skin

burned their tissue-paper souls�"

dissolving their quest for answers,

melting away the tattered remnants of life

that they so desperately grasped.

My own heart feverishly pitied them,

longing to offer some sweet solace

or carry them some form of comfort.

I prayed for them peace,

as they glittered out of existence.

 

I witnessed a mighty gathering,

the taking up of spirits. 

Author's Note

written in response to walking to class one morning through the mysterious but brief spirit-world of fog. just a fun-write, nothing special. hope you enjoyed.