Something broke the trophosphere.
Quietus settled over the soil,
a cenotaph marking what should be there:
breath with the color of a soul,
now traipsed to empyrean.
Now the divinity knows its waywardness.
The mistral has a bite,
terra firma stirs with carrion,
and palpitation underfoot.
The coterie of the perished,
acknowledging another spirit
of a personage succombing to the higher power
while still alive.
A bouquet of lilies
placed in front of the monolith,
still facing the sun never regarded.
~~~
Honorable mention
Adding your comment:
It better have.
I'll add you to my AP family page! 
