Reclamation

Photo by Kim Dowson

Steady the course.

Through crushed green and dirt I creep.

Searching for a way in.

Faithful to my true.

It calls me back with hardly a notice.

Quick to fill and swallow.

I’m merciless.

Stealing all that lies before me.

Banishing it to the darkness.

My rage grows.

Callously wasting earth as I hasten.

Nothing can stop me.

Fate called me here.

To reclaim a home that once was.

A home that is to be once again.

Replenished.

Resurrection

Photo by Kim Dowson

Stripped down and surrendered.

Shadowed by carcasses dispersed throughout the distant.

In the air, a scent lingers.

Acrid and bitter, failing to dissipate.

Falling grey ash on black.

Devoid of any particular attribution.

Now empty, the stillness waits as it sifts through the departed chaos.

Pulverized to dust and left vacant once hell arrived and took over.

A masterful devil, skilled in obliteration.

Opulent in his inclinations.

Weary the head who carries the burden intent on resurrection.

Forgotten, only to wander the charred remains of a fractured darkness.

Tenaciously forging onward, determined to reclaim a life once known.

If not already altered by profound irony.

Embracing the season of ascension.

With patience for those reclaimed and forgiven.

To those confined but not without conviction, in this moment of rebirth.