In Bones We Trust

In this ancient

Ruin we trust

In this relic

Of an age not

Ours –

Where shining men

Hid behind doors

And ruled

Against

Martyrs

Who could not

Argue

Or take flight

Against

Hamlet’s plight

—-

The age is past,

But the seeping

Sinister spirit

Continues

To fester

To the bone.