Holy Grail

by stevenjaysen

My candle hurls a shadow to the top
Of my Saharan ceiling. I marvel
At an anxious cerosus eclipse who
Quivers at the thought of her distant source

A brilliant tongue can disguise terror
But feeds on soul blood molten life bud our

Bodies burn and flesh drains dry claret boils
Residue blackens to ash solar death

Mother screams and father cries tears of pain
Children’s corpses already hung to dry.