The crowd moves without murmurs.
You don’t know when it started.
But you remember the day
you packed your bags and joined them.

The crowd moves without murmurs.
No one knows where to anymore,
they remember or misremember
old tales of the light that had opened up in the sky.

The crowd moves without murmurs
like cattle being led to their slaughter;
a beautiful and glorious death awaits.
Old tales of the light set to swallow us one by one.

Someone starts speaking:
‘ I’m sick of waiting in line for this.’
‘ It’s a sham’
‘ It’s a heaven you blasphemous fools’
‘ It’s a sham. Wake up. You’re living in darkness.’

The crowd moves on, as conversations break off.
Some break off into different directions.
Most continue to wait in line, moving slowly.
You don’t know which way to go.