Beyond the Gate

The creaking of a distant gate;
Breaking waves through the fog,
Settling among the mossy rocks.
My tired fingers play a somber song.
In the blackness, iron bends to the will of empty men.
None of whom I call my friends.
The gate, it swings again.
Some specter crawling on my skull sips liquid dripping from my pen,
Mixing hope with reality.
My mind locked up in fantasy,
I let them in again.
Keys of bone within my grip,
Hear my voice deteriorate in unclean spaces.
Hark this humble, humble, humble cry-
Do not let them in.
All who pass beyond the gate will hurt you.
Latch it tightly before each frost.
This chasm of hate protects us.
Do not forget me.
Lock it now before all is lost.




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Mass Effect

I do not love the ephemeral world.
I have no attraction to material.
Instead I lust for the unspoken double entendre.
I quiver in ecstasy at the interwoven fibers sprung from wings of unseen butterflies.

 

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With Crows

I am with crows.

I see them watching from my star-crossed lover’s eyes.

My descent into madness is not descent but elevation.

At my window, in the air, on my pillow as I dream.

I walk the streets surrounded by their ever-present loneliness.

They mock me as I mingle among the dead.

The shudder of my heart, miscalculated.

They quiver with gilded tongues.

In this pestilent hour, I rest my hope on darkness.

I am never alone.

I am with crows.

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