taut and caught

    what song
    plays
    in the ears of 
    the dying
    when the light
    finally lifts
    from their sight
    and the flies
    dance about 
    their meat
    ?

        what tune
        drifts through
        the air
        of despair
        upon the misery
        of the deceased
        from the crease
        of skin
        sewn tight
        so the lips
        just might
        remain closed
        when the
        bellow blows
        upon erupting
        from the throat
        ?
   
    what tears
    are there
    to fall about
    the cheeks
    of the already 
    forgotten
    reduced
    to the memories
    of the lingering
    dead
    ?

            and why
            should we care
            that no one
            is there
            to hear 
            the hymns
            of our screams
            because our
            mouths are
            sewn tight
            with wire
            composed from the
                    fire
          for which
    we burn
 ?