The bringer of gifts

The blind one steps through bones
he does not see. He follows the sound

of the river. If only he can see the river
red as cut blood & what walks behind

him dragging something wicked along.
He hears the scream but thinks it the

wind against his ears. The deaf one sits
among the throng & watches the

mouth of everything. He thinks he
reads words from their lips but all they

do is scream. He prophesies from what
he reads & the throng listen to his

words. The dumb one cannot scream.
He runs after the blind one, to turn him

from the destruction he metes out
benevolent from his outstretched

hands. He is not fast enough & the
thing between them is hungry. He tries

to tell the throng that they are heading
the wrong way but no one listens to

silence. The cripple watches the deaf &
wonders why he does not get up & run,

why he lies to the people. He shouts at
him & crawls towards him but the

throng will not let him through. They
believe this is salvation. The dead wait

for the blind one is coming to them. He brings gifts. He brings gifts.


ball-2849346_640.jpg
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Very vivid images you painted with your words. Sounds like a prophecy for the current society we live in...

Hmmm. I hope it is not. It seems dire.

I love it. Nice piece you have here.

I like the vivid imagery and the way the things the various characters lack counterpoint and highlight aspects of the situation. The haunting and portentous tone seems well realized.

What a beautiful poem, very profound for me and what a great image it matches perfectly with this great writing, have a happy holidays.