A silent scream,
From distant time,
Suspended in a darkened room.
An open mouth,
No eyes to see,
Set teeth exposed,
With hollow skulls.
A group of friends,
Or foes till death?
No one to tell,
Of end demise.
Day come, day go,
The scene a freeze,
Old dust specks rest,
In canvas weaves.
A toothy grin.
wow, pretty powerful stuff! Nice Ophir.
more-love the irony of the title, too.