The Gods Are Crying
My soil is soaked with tears and blood instead of rain.
A thousand years have come and gone, yet my trees were never witness to such cruelties before.
No honor.
No justice.
No love.
Not even mercy.
Though, why am I surprised at the taking of lives? This mountain was once used for sacrifices to appease the gods.
The only difference is, when the gifts of flesh were given to the heavens, blessings were returned onto the earth. Prosperity thrived throughout the land in the form of crops and community.
Now they only bring curses, torment, and hatred. Their obscenities are the cause of the decay. They keep poisoning the land.
Poisoning me.
They hide between the trees, those beasts. Lurking in the shadows with their weapons. Searching for new victims. Salivating at the mouth. Waiting for a bountiful feast.
Then they attack.
And the mountain is shrouded with the cries of the taken. The begging of the innocents. The feral shrieking of those fighting one last time.
Suddenly it's quiet.
That’s when I know; they are gone once again.
And If there should be ashes, Kukulcán carries them in his feathers.
Pitiful Ixtab weeps out of guilt, for she cannot help victims slain by others.
And Ix Chel can only watch in horror as her children get massacred, marred, and molested.
In no particular order.
So I am left to bear man’s greatest sins. Unable to help the mothers, the daughters, or the sisters.
No honor.
No justice.
No love.
No hope.
The divine feminine has been desecrated in this mountain, where the soil is soaked with tears and blood instead of rain.
