Nature calved up, decapitated limbs
left in unmarked eulogies, only silence
speaks. The carcasses of the fallen now
lumber atop of each other. A mass grave
of something once tall now fallen & muted.

Within the insects of humanity now infest
this cadaver, putting what once was brethren
upon the flame. A funeral pyre of rings now
turning to ash, warming the lumbering morbidity
that has an aroma of pine cones screaming in the night.

They live within our gravestones of silence.
Nailing there memories within our husks.
Yet they abandon us like we were momentary
needs, for we are lifetimes in their finite moments.
                     And we decay from where we came from.