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Cimmerian

phlegmatic self
savagely shrill -
the elfish quiet
of a wintry night,
every pulse,
beating vehemently
chest and shield
clamoring together
in hungry fury

dying flames
stifled in grate,
vault fitfully,
raven fragments -
psychological enigma
before my brain

in spasms of
secret desperation
I lean there -
endeavoring to lynch
affinity from
humanly fiends
whose claws were
clobbered steel

descending into
condensed miasma
of starless night
harking the muffled
voices of darkness
I crawl closer
to wrinkled Death,
ambushing in thicket -
a rancid supplicant
waiting for
door to be opened




This post first appeared on Terminal Moraine, please read the originial post: here

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Cimmerian

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