In the valley of scorched death

the mummified

remains of those

who came before us

are losing their

peeling skin

exposing bones

as hard as

metal rods

no human life

was ever held up by

We watch them

decompose in larval

stages once they

are exposed to light

expecting new life forms

to emerge;

where the old ends

the new begins

in this no man’s

land where nothing

flourishes in the light

By the light of the polished skulls

The way forward

through the rows

of desiccated trees

is lit by

the polished skulls

of pets gleaming

in the night

leading us to

the breeding grounds

where the prehistoric

birds are creating

new versions

of their kind

The shrieks birthing

mothers make are

enough to bring

the dead back

to life

Exploring the edges

of the unknown world

where negative space

meets the black holes

of our dreams

we discover fields

of battle where

the beasts of night

meet birds of prey

heralding the beginning

of what happens

when night refuses

to end

Cave light

is swallowed once

we venture inside

where we can hear

the sound of bats

molting in the dark

hear the high pitched

whine that pierces

the soft bleeding

membranes of our

tormented ears

Even what waits

outside is preferable

to this