We couldn’t see the forest so we cut down all the trees and increased line of sight into the cemetery seas. As everyone was watching, standing there upon the shore the gulls perched on the corpses left becoming such a bore. And simple lives there flaming, caryatids smoking shell while the souls of honest men inherit fathers’ forlorn wail. Closer now, the precipice to home and all held dear. Someone hail the foreman ‘cos there be devils here.