to silence the Sun

and in the end
there was no morning
no rush hour
no alarm clock
keeping time with a purpose
no life on Mars
there was only a passing silhouette dressed in virginal white
walking around a lonely apartment block
smart phone in hand
high speed data downloading
a compass needle spinning wildly
melting ice
but there was nothing of intrinsic value
to be found
on the front or backyard porch.
the sound was silent
colors were cold
language a barrier
a limp man swung past a mounted rider's torch
fell into a gigantic black hole
began to dance on the celestial stage.
but he seemed trapped in a broadway cage
when the play was held
an anxious audience sat in chairs
either alone or in nervous pairs
and wondered how this might come to a fitting end.
a brother and a sister and a close friend
walked on hard steps
tried to make sense
of a windowless fence
they saw
erected along the vast southern border
broken glass and sharp barbed wire
cemented on the top
where the sky was pierced
red blood seeped down onto the desert dirt
dried in clumps but provided no moisture
where the sun was hottest.
a watching man put down his book
he looked again at the rider and the horse
standing around
saw the man swinging still
a fresh grave included no name
major papers of the day ran the story
but mostly they distorted the truth
in order to silence the Sun.