monostich – Page 3 – elancharan gunasekaran

across battlefields swollen with bodies and rubble scavengers harvest and remake the world in their vision: brutal

rainfall: in step and wake where she manifests the ground be hallowed

time eats into the day a consistent and fixated beast chewing away at the fringes of reality

floodgates raised: not light but the darkness raw fills empty spaces

true morning: bodies of still and natural life bathed in a gentle glow of golden

within reach to horizon each tree contributes a tune to the collective birdsong

gone are the cosmic sounds and reverberations of worlds beyond from the night after

each word in the spell: is a haunting that lingers in the space spoken gathering essence to power an apparatus of annihilation

not druids or sorcerers but a different kind of circle: smiths who harness the magic of the seasons to mend the realms in the aftermath of world-ending wars and infernal blight

and if dreams became currency wouldn’t the ones who live between stained pages be the wealthiest