Needless Things: Skeletal Prayerz

Hands of bone clasped tight in plea, Whispers echo through eternity. Hollow voices chant in vain, Prayers carved deep in marrow’s chain.

Altars cracked by time’s decay, Dust of saints has blown away. Still the skeletons bow and kneel, To gods of rust they cannot feel.

Every rib a fractured hymn, Every socket a chapel dim. Sacred ash on broken ground, Where no divine reply is found.

The wind recites their hollow creed, Faith long starved, yet still it feeds. Kneecaps grind on stone so bare, Bleached devotion in the air.

No incense burns, no candles gleam, Only echoes of a dream. They mouth the words of holy rites, But darkness answers, endless nights.

The sky is deaf, the stars are blind, No savior comes, no peace they find. Yet still they pray, their faith persists, Even as the void resists.

Their prayers are bones, their hymns are dust, Their altar rots, their scriptures rust. Yet hope endures through cracked remains, A fragile ghost in endless chains.

So when you hear the graveyard’s song, The skeletal prayers still drift along. A hymn of death, a psalm of loss, A faith eternal, nailed to its cross. NNN