On the Altar

Toppled from the throne of a once-vast and mighty empire whose fearsome name no one remembers except broken stones, King Ozymandias bled his tears into the sand that sucked him deeper like a mad old lover whose yoni won't let 'em go. The more he cried the deeper he sunk & drenched the sand with the tears of all he killed raped maimed and tortured upwelling thru his body like water pushing up thru a tree to breathe & become one with air. Tears dried & sand turned hard like cement became rock as Ozy all petrified his core solid rock choking his soul so tight his head splintered off his neck into scattered shards of light .... with a whistling sigh only the wind heard the lost souls of thousands soared high & free riding upon the wings of they own sorrow grieving nothing save the ecstasy of union with Earth. Eons later as humans walk the Earth in blind oblivion of their own impending tipping point so many so many can't even see the very Altar they stride upon everywhere they turn, an Altar hungrily awaiting for its sacrifice, waiting for its flood of tears.

(Inspired response to Prezz Pressley's poem "The Altar" in June 2011 in the Facebook Group "MEN who r NOT AFRAID 2 CRY.")

by William Dudley Bass

June 23, 2011

(C) 2011 by William Dudley Bass