in myriad ten-fold they stood to watch their leader
“trust in me” he said, holding armageddon in his hand
so they trusted, looking to the skies with war straightening their spines each held a lance and each wore a crown because they were free as they followed their leader they wore crowns
they did not know God or the cosmos or the order of creation they did not know the path to peace nor did they care to learn it and they stood with their backs straight and their souls empty
only the wailing of the children left behind remained
They worship gods of Babylon, noble in vain self-conception.
Creating edifices of self-destruction, they cast their bones into the sky, sacrificing the stars for mastery of the world.
Profane flame burns in their chests, and nothing supports their feet.
Under a sunless sky they will meet eternity, weeping at their loss, purging their minds and bodies of what they knew in their first breath.
They worship, and come away unfulfilled.
Their temples are hollow, their eyes soulless, their hopes dashed on the rocks and shattered into the splinters of a thousand wasted words.
And still they worship gods of Babylon.
She wanted to save him.
Sand passing through her fingers.
She could see him fall away. Distant and yet towering, former glory passing below the horizon.
The world was drowned in sorrow.
How could there be anything else?
She held him close to her heart as the decline began.
Even though she knew he could not hear.
She held him in her arms, his frail frame barely coherent. And she could hear the raspy jagged breaths. She closed her eyes,
letting hot burning swell inside the lids.
The sun had gone down and it would not raise again.