The Watch

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic

THE WATCH NEVER BLINKS. A POEM.

A grey world,

 

with grey air,

 

pale trees in black soil,

 

pavement washes away the grass and skyscrapers scratch off the sun,

 

where is everyone?

 

No cars are driving,

 

cameras are the only moving beings outside,

 

creeds of execution scream below the sidewalk,

 

masks with plastered smiles grapple the faces of children.

 

Be happy, they said,

 

but how?

 

How could I if red robes are our leaders,

 

and a red eye our flag.

 

They assure safety, but at what cost?

 

No other religion but praise to the one's ahead, not above,

 

no other belief but devolution.

 

Mundi oculos observantur, they chant quietly,

 

over and over, chanting all at once,

 

as they hold my head down in front of a blade,

 

to make sure a rebel was never to be seen again.


Submitted: May 14, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Ezra Enzo. All rights reserved.

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