The Vanguard

I count heads
Severed heads by the sewer
And every passing day, their number rises,

Ranks, legions - those who have
trotted past, without worrying,
fearing none save themselves….

I’m not one of them,
But I count their heads when those are severed
and thrown down the gutters.

Someday, the darkness will break away from
its prison of those moon-lit simmering
bubbles of the
sewer tanks, drains and gutter pipes,
and make it’s way unto the world
Someday it will claim its empire.

When it happens,
I’ll rise up and I’ll ride to the clouds

Till then,
I shall have no name, no home and no throne

I’m just a head-counter, sitting by the rotting
corpses of the cesspit.