Missa Frequentia by Walter Bjorkman

Stranger vultures of deadening ash-pits climbed vocally to lofty spires of supplication the thin strangled birds heightened to stand atop prayers sent forth by the harried villagers as one by one the weary townspeople filed slowly past the heap of dull remnants the now silent birds of prey lofted into the open air circling wider with each passage of another face over the mutilations of their fellow men Slowly the dotted figures crested the hill and disappeared in absolute silence each without answer from afar of what turned this vile story into one of mortal agony

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