The great temple

I.

He aurified the walls with foil

chose which tribe would fell it

let the nations battle

then slayed them just to sell it

their prayers crescendo wildly

rising like balloons

while tourists come to worship

the ever aphonic ruins

II.

In my dreams the prophetess

casts runes

constructs the calf

sacrifices her

prepares the meal

rations manna

mixes tinctures

turns tears to pen & paper

transcendent, she watches us

our foreheads pressed

murmuring pleas into the cold

Be Open Says;