Tyrone Wingfield - Dead Gods

They scream their names, but no one hears a sound
Their voices shaking the very foundation
Despite how no one remembers that they are around
They’ve been here since the start of the nation

Their ways are no longer taught nor followed
And not a soul utters the rites.
Not a single prayer has been offered,
And no longer do they recieve sacrifice.

The temples that once stood glorious,
With their altars streaming rivers of red.
Are littered with the bodies of the priestess,
Like them all the beliefs are dead.

Each one was once carried on the backs of believers
Now lay under destroyed temples and forgotten tombs
Time has proven to be the ultimate deceiver
It cleared the space so the new gods could have room

These gods are newly raised, and will surely fall
Just as all that preceded, they will become ashes
For now they may romp, roll and brawl
But their own praise will soon be ripped from their clenches

Tyrone Wingfield

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dead-gods/