Quiescent

Ash yield omniscience as clouds obscure Fountains from their palms Foreboding giants What of the ones who put out their eyes? Are they granted semblance of sight? Beseeching, bless us as well Burrowed beneath the watchful gaze A name lost in detritus Cradling a cratered head cast down in resignation It spoke to us, once There’s a solace in insight Blanketed in supposition Fractal outgrowths obscure Bound together in the fall Eyes implanted along the inner Cry for blessings unattained I, a penitent petitioning My curdled husk, frozen, remains Spiral through paths unending Howl to callous ears Conjure remnants fading A sliver appears