The Shroud- Caleb Scott

In the West they say that when the Shroud
Fell across the sky, children screamed and
Mothers wept and fathers dug weapons
From almost-forgotten hiding places.

In the East I watched as the Shroud
Descended, and listened with horror to screams
Resounding with something like joy, a horrendous
Cacophony of exultation devoid of fear.

In the West they say that walls were
Erected in haste, blades sharpened and
Old fletchings repaired in preparation
For what the Shroud might bring.

In the East I watched as the walls were
Festooned with garlands of holly and
Dancing-floors were cleared in preparation
For what the Shroud might bring.

In the West they say that blood
Soaked the plains so deeply that
To this day, the grass grows crimson
And the fallen fight on in denial of death.

In the East I watched as they marched
Through our gates with their covenants of peace,
Declaring that under their protection
We would never need fear death.

In the West they say that the resistance was
Futile, that those who fought were fools
To do so, that their lives were spent
For naught in defiance of the Shroud.

In the East I watched as we welcomed
Them with open arms, ignorant of the
West’s fate; our leaders sold themselves
For naught in submission to the Shroud.

In the West they say that there, no living creature
Has drawn breath for a dozen years now.

Here in the East, I am envious.
At least the corpses in the West do not pretend to be alive.