Failed Attempts At Consolation

The consolers clatter on
While mourners hang their heads
The sun just up and blood convoys slow
No one really cares and no one really hears

The preacher speaks
With words meant to inspire, to lift souls higher
The pews are full of folks who hurt
But aren’t being healed, just instructed

The line grows long like cancer
With hands to shake and lines to recite
While brother and sisters are forced to console
And their mother Rests behind them

The weary sun has almost collapsed
Night is waiting to be born
The day is too long and heavy
And forced to crawl through

And the worm keeps on
Consuming flesh created in His image
Carving caves to lay their eggs
Only to die a few feet away