My ancestors’ hands

bathed in blood,

and buried their sins

beneath dirt

and stone

and stories.

Stories that turned being into beast,

and beast into carcass,

the living dead waiting for harvest.

They worked frantically,

because stopping meant silence,

and silence brings nightmares.

Nightmares twisted

and deformed

until villains became…

--

--

jen foxbot

Dabbled in dark matter, settled into engineering with a blend of inventing and education. Founder/CEO of an educational tech company: www.FoxBotIndustries.com