Arrows fly as do accusations.
Spirits soar to meet expectations
Fingers no longer point
Because the archer’s aim was true.
A collective gasp is heard
And panic ensues
Hard to walk across these floors
Because they’re littered with the corpses of dinosaurs
With arrows protruding from their eyes.
Tripping the antiques that don’t share in the indigo hues
that the elevator brought down to change the faces of the bright red blues.
Was all this murder necessary just so we could recognize peace?
It seems so,
It bleeds so ,
As it continues to bring us to our knees.
One day we’ll get back on our feet,
Find a new color to anoint
Something that deciphers these words for their reader
But for now we will have to adhere to the glorious wisdom of our money, politicians, and so-called religious leaders.