THE CATHEDRAL OF THE DEVIL
I walk through mass graves blessed by complicit priests.
Their chalices vomit oceans of bones.
Every psalm they chant tolls like a hangman’s rope.
Their angels, vultures, feast on the scorched flesh of the defeated.
They branded my ancestors with burning irons,
Then wrote their names in the ledgers of hell.
Prayers never extinguished the flames of the pyres,
They fed them with hypocritical blessings.
I am the offspring of a grave never sealed,
A pain trivialized in the throats of our dead.
My cradle, a mass grave,
My inheritance, a diabolical will smeared with dried blood.
They speak of humanity with lips coated in ashes,
But their hands still tremble from the chains they forged.
Their human rights are epitaphs carved on violated tombs.
Their racist stereotypes howl like shrouds in the wind.
I have no heaven to behold,
Only the soot of colonial furnaces.
I have no future to invoke,
Only wandering shadows in my fractured veins.
Let them pray to their cannibal gods,
I will pray to my scars.
Let them promise a deceitful paradise,
I will kneel before the darkness of my demons.
I am a standing specter,
An unburied revenant.
I live among the ruins of a world that never loved my skin,
And I breathe the tainted air of slaughtered centuries.
Copyright © Auguste Romain Nyecki | Year Posted 2025
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