Bastille Eleven

Explosions of light dying in falling embers.
Swirls of manufactured ashes flickering.
Faces uplifted to the prescience in the sky.

In a mass for the dead delivered by the dying.
In an eulogy for the lost prepared by the perishing.
A macabre dance in sifting cinders.

Binding future facts to everlasting evidence.

© 2015 Wasted Space Publishing

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