The Valley of Death - Cerulean Odyssey

Cerulean Odyssey, Vol.5, No.12 hollow grams of weightless chatter boxes full of empty shells the only seed worth saving generations of a scarlet thread I catch myself flying much too high bleak the landscape of the forgotten in another city full of silent bones stacked and ready for the tourists miles and miles preposterous parade six million was the last and counting not like the valley of dry bones I’ve seen before shivering on a deserted beach footprints in the sand of a nowhere man caught in traffic never moving the hand of fear upon his head no one’s there to ask the burning question why me in this early morning fog shifting shadows in an acid bath four wheel drives stand idle grumbling get me off this rock before my time