Remains to Display

My bones have been dug from the dirt.

From beneath the ground and rock.

Dusted and hung in your halls.

I watch you through empty sockets.

My bones are hung from the rafters,

Situated to dangle just right.

I used to fly on my own, you know.

I used to soar through the skies.

There's an odd weight to being displayed

in nothing more than your bones.

Forever staged and stationary

I can never just dive or let go.

Eagerly you watch me,

Amazement in your eyes.

For how great were the beasts of the ages then,

And even they didn't survive.

Nature raged her wrath,

And all of us gods did fall.

I wonder, small humans what’ll happen,

That makes it your bones they hang on the walls.