The Gault
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Obliscene

The Gault


Looking down where memory lives
Is a desperate spill
Of mud and blood and terror's grist
And ghosts of slaughtered will.

Looking down where memory lives
Fire poppies grow
Thrives the bloom on charred remains
Of all we could not know

Out of still woods come shadows
Of gestures past
To stumble from the frozen failed
Into tomorrow's grasp

Here comes loss and avarice
In step with cold disdain
Whispered wants, their dead husks fall
From trunks to march again

Out of still woods come shadows
Of gestures past
To stumble from the frozen failed
Into tomorrow's grasp

The once silent ground now cries
Saying you weren't the first to pass this way
Legacies like these are slow to die
And you, you were just too small to save.

Beg, beg the face of fate to
Change the path of the seed
Doomed to repeat the unspeakable truth
Of their deeds

Is it insane the hope that
Crawls from us into the light
Even as all before us have fallen.
Marching into the night

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