by Jonathan Hunter-Kilmer
splayed flesh without its sinews close
this bone in his do you suppose
the bodies lie in blood not theirs
as evil flies and smashes snares
afar we look and bleed inside
what's yet to come, who could not hide
who will not resurface again
(alive)
nor will the hopes of friends
in You alone our peace and hope
and flagging all attempts to cope
I ride into the night to help
the boy who cannot breath himself
and if the sky should fall en route
thus greatly shorten my commute
I'll feel Your kiss on eyes and face
and hands guide me to my last place