I once knew the names of children
whose eyes lit up an iridescent Gold,
cheeks a tint of Dead Rose Red
and hair tipped with Platinum
cries of joy as they watched the sky
the stars a twinkle shooting by
a clumsy stumble on the darkened street
followed by a giggle
and hastening footsteps
to congregate inside the church door
and bow to the faces of saints
and candles
carrying bouquets
of black and white feathers
single file and grinning
until the morning comes
and showers them in divine light
on their knees they are halted
their mouths frozen in a prayerful pout
littering the pew with arcane figurines
some faces turned upward
only their eyes remaining human
hands reaching
for the stained glass ceiling
or for each other
or for their leader
some faces turned
toward the wooden church door
with stone tears falling from their eyes
and smiles bathed in colored light
hands hovering above their knees
as if gently dismissing
the calls of their parents
non-regretful of the life they left behind
interrupted by the laughter
of five morbid figures
their demon smirks revealing their
Platinum teeth
tipped with Dead Rose Red
they came to spare these children
yet delighted
that they had been too late
the sound of their shoes
on the cold, dead floor
echoed through the hollowed ears
of the young ones
along with the sound of their muffled
laughs
they take their places
before the congregation
and on each other’s heads they place
crowns of barbed-wire and violets.
