Oak Pantheon

We Will Tear Down The Gods


Crimson droplets seep
Into the gleaming creek
It breathes heavily
And releases a sigh

We will tear down the gods

An old oak stares at me
It points to the sky
The Sun shines down
It shows me a face

Weighed down by the fog
The creek wheezes as night falls
It screams as dawn rises
Terrified of the Sun


Familiar gaze
In those eyes
They were empty
Exhausted and defeated

I imagine the fog
As it creeps into my lungs
And slowly suffocates me
Leaving my body behind
I envision the Sun
Burning me alive
Scorching me
Until only ashes remain

I hold in my hands
A pointed stone
I think of carving the final words
Into my flesh
Yet something always holds me back
And I pray
To whatever God there is
That it always will

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