in the end of times,
we will weep open-mouthed
with pomegranate seeds in between our teeth
wailing to the dust, the dirt, the deity

the last rays of the sun will filter through
the bare branches of the trees
like sand in an hourglass,
washing us of yesterday’s sin

the clouds will finally catch up with the ever-expanding sky
a patch of light will be waiting,
watching us dance like maggots across a corpse

and like icarus before me, i take flight