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
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