(The Village)

In the spring lull
Before the summer storms
Our sleepy village died
Golden fields reflected
The cold black grimace
Frozen on every face

Manufactured bodies
Full of steel and malice
Herded as animals
Led to the chasm
Brutal break
In the meadow of tears

Unspoken orders
Leap for a chance
Or die where you stand
Old and weak doomed
Latched to the machines
Through the wrists
Frail Christs swinging
Torn to pieces
Before our eyes

I jump across
Land on a cold platform
Momentarily safe
I watch others
Hooked like fish
Lowered into the chasm
Screaming intense, flailing
They reappear in flames
Tossed aside like refuge