Eternal Sundown VII

It's hours into the end, only a few if any.

Time seems absent in this continuum, and only the highs of pain come into play.

Ravens and crows gather over the Queen's council,

arched to peer into souls as they stare with admirable grimace into the eyes of the noose's victims.

 

Widows' curse and gloom in doom,

seasoning each tear with words of hate.

Tears fading to blood stains as they firmly grip their children in their busts;

Once a place to bask, but now hardened by odd thuds of remorse.

A ray of hope radiates across faces each time the hangman sighs,

anticipated as a slight change of heart,

an existence of bits of a soul that can put an end to this raid of torment.

Dusk meets reverence in the King's courtyard.

Chime melting skin off fresh bones at the altar foot.

Holy grails overflowing with blood through the sewers quenching death's thirst.