Two caged birds eat each other alive
Burning within those four walls
Until there’s nothing inside
Does the cage
Burn for them, though?
No, because the cage
Is already dead and rotten.
The shackled captive can only dream
Of the infinite skies,
And when thunderstorm visits his nightmares,
He jolts up only to cry tears of joy.
Ecstatic, he turns and tells his cellmate,
But that, doesn’t respond.
Why does he never
Show any interest?
That’s, because he
Is already dead and rotten.
Only one whisper could the living hear
From that mad, forsaken mold of flesh,
Being eaten by worms yet frozen in time:
“There’s no use
Talking to a dead body.”
And when the whole world will be dead,
All the dead will rejoice and kindle a great fest,
One where everyone will dance their hearts out,
But no one will speak,
Because the dead
Have nothing to talk about.
And so they will go on,
For all the centuries and seasons to come,
Until even the last flame
Will be nothing
But forever dead and rotten.
And after everything is gone, even
Far past the last of the ends of times,
That one old, boundless vast blue sky
Will keep visiting the Earth
Always, each and every day,
But with no one to admire,
It will only go forgotten,
Because that is, sadly,
The quiet world of the dead and rotten.
