catacombs

These holy remains,

stacked “like firewood”,

their empty cavities moaning silence

blind sockets gaping at us, we gape back.

did they imagine, when they laid

their beloved ones

here, stacked in rotting stench –  knowing they

would not move again but would only grow more still

rooted to this cavern, flesh melting into

the ravenous dark –

they would only be illuminated by camera flashes?

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One thought on “catacombs

  1. Yes, I have often thought…”how dare we stare at your remains”…yet, there I was…viewing them…thinking of who they were…what were their lives like…Your words are well written!

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