Black onyx statues
They stand, rooted;
Seeping into
The cold pavement
Beneath their base.
No hope lingers here;
Everyone is aware
Of their own mortality
And lone spirits sneer
At the next passerby crowd
With streams of blood
Gushing through their veins,
While their hearts
Remain as vacant
As the tombs here.
Those who enter this place
Do so willingly
Out of realization that
They've got nowhere to go;
No needy hands
Reaching out for them
In the dead of night.
They reach in vain
For the sun's blinding rays,
Kneeling before these
Onyx saints,
Waiting for them
To gesture a signal
They've been anticipating
All thei