They scream their names, but no one hears a sound <br />Their voices shaking the very foundation <br />Despite how no one remembers that they are around <br />They’ve been here since the start of the nation <br /> <br />Their ways are no longer taught nor followed <br />And not a soul utters the rites. <br />Not a single prayer has been offered, <br />And no longer do they recieve sacrifice. <br /> <br />The temples that once stood glorious, <br /> With their altars streaming rivers of red. <br />Are littered with the bodies of the priestess, <br />Like them all the beliefs are dead. <br /> <br />Each one was once carried on the backs of believers <br />Now lay under destroyed temples and forgotten tombs <br />Time has proven to be the ultimate deceiver <br />It cleared the space so the new gods could have room <br /> <br />These gods are newly raised, and will surely fall <br />Just as all that preceded, they will become ashes <br />For now they may romp, roll and brawl <br />But their own praise will soon be ripped from their clenches<br /><br />Tyrone Wingfield<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dead-gods/
