The Land of the Scarecrows

By: Justin Henry, Editor in chief

this is the Inferno
not fiery pits nor rivers of blood
abandoned wagons, mountains of sand
before endless plains
with the illusion of returning to origin
under the wrathful sun
this is the Inferno

this is the hollow land
none have returned
banquets of sand, oases of dirt
nothing to quench eternal desire
unsatisfied longing
this is the hollow land

this is the land of the scarecrows
lied to by their prophet
cheated of the earth
of god’s lush and fertile pastures
joyful songs from dried voices
caught in a gail force of sand
this is the land of the scarecrows

this is the swamp
fetter of weed
expanding and contracting
by the slight current
pulsating mob
like a pit of snakes
this is the swamp

this is the land of the dead ones
reeling their heads in grotesque laughter
no depth to their misery
quick eyes when they pass
peering down at themselves
trapped in the wasteland of common life
this is the land of the dead ones

this is eternity
nothing to keep company
but excruciating awareness
and silly mind games
that this is this, and that is that
been given the chance
would we have chosen consciousness
rather than sleep in the eternal dark
before it was all sound and furious movement
this is eternity

Please follow and like us:

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Skip to toolbar