The general idea of need is rather strange,
apart from the curse of our greed
it is perhaps the only thing that grows
once we are sated with our current ones’
A moon, as red as blood, climbs over the desert,
painting the clouds and the sand crimson too.
The silence of the night is often pierced
by packs of howling wolves and laughing hyenas.
The wind is loud and dry with grains of dust,
hovering like vultures in the sun,
that come in many thousands to feast on the dead.
Since this war of Gods began there has been no drought
of death as we die in millions everyday
so for two thousand years the scavengers have grown…