Rust and blame

A lone silent cry
in the dark,
In a desert
full of people

from above
a forest of lookalike christmas trees
decorated with handheld lights

casting strange shadows creating
hollow faces with shadowij eyes
focused on the hypnotic luminy glass

voices tell them
what to think
how to look
when to rise
when to speak

thin layers of fools gold that wrap around onions

another silent cry
quenched by the voices
more urgent—but less noticed

from above waves are seen like a sea
an aftermath from a storm far away
when the statues rise dancing
on the rhytm of the tide

indignant ,fed by fiery words
they raise their cries
feeding the storm
creating tidal waves

its collateral unknown

turbulent sounds
that still the lonely wails
cloaks them with rust and blame