I saw the Pale Horse, the rotted flesh, green horse,
the pustulent steed of Death and Hades,
and they were ordained with authority
over a portion of the earth,
given a position of command
to say “come,” –and you come,
to say “go,” –you salute! and go.
They were given authority to kill the spirit
by sword, by famine, by plague.
And silence is just another word for pestilence;
let it incubate for weeks,
let it smolder beneath the surface
of your broken skin, for weeks,
unspoken.
Ask your questions –you’ll get no response.
Seek understanding –you’ll get none.
When the outbreak comes,
who will be afflicted?
The ones left silenced in the field.
I am livid, corpse-like
signifying death.
The beasts have devoured me.
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