The Unsaid

The unspoken The tall deep green grass on the plateau is undulating ominously today as an unseen virus is formed and breathes down the valley. Reindeer´s bones are a signal of things to come the silence of mass- graves is menacing. Thresholds are defenceless keeping the pestilence from entering your rooms killing the fire in your heart and apathy rots from the inside. Ice cold is the blues sky it will not yield, the deep green grass whisper the is no escape join us now.