Allegiance to What?

Red, for the blood that
Is spilled in this land, not just
Left in history.

White, for the bones that
Lie forgotten, waiting for
Their recognition.

Blue, for the sky that
Watches everything, and can
Only weep for them.

I see no valor,
No innocence, no justice,
When I look at you.



© The Lightning Tower, 2020

Poor Choices

“How was I supposed to know it was haunted?” Jacob asked, watching as the shadows started swirling ominously, and the temperature plummeted.

“I don’t know,” Jade replied, glaring at him. “Maybe it was the obscure dialect written in blood, on an ancient artifact you stole from an unmarked grave at an archeological dig?”

Echoing laughter filled the air, and Jade felt something pull at her hair. She batted at the air around her head, but connected with nothing.

“Well, besides that!” Jacob said, his eyes flicking around the room, knowing something was there, just out of sight.

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A Good Yarn

What would it be like,
If we could patch together our memories
Like a stitched-together blanket?

Would some be worn thin,
Barely holding together and ragged
From years of remembering?

Would some be bright,
Always catching our eye and recalling
Memories, good or bad?

Would there be holes,
Where we know memories once lived
But we can’t find anymore?

Would there be a narrative,
The memories moving one to another
Or just a jumble of moments?

Would there be dark parts,
Things we wish weren’t in our blanket
But are holding it together?

Would there be little spots,
Dotting the surface that bring smiles
Even in moments of darkness?



What would your blanket of memories look like?



© The Lightning Tower, 2020