Below The Frost Line

Clank . . . Clank
Sparks fly for the first time
across another frigid day
black chunks with shards of clay
thrown angry out the way

The Mold
Softness hardened amid decay
the midnight's all tucked away
the red, the grey, the blue still plays
with one foot in the grave

Bang
Deep below the frost line
where Lucifer waits alone
this shovel's getting heavy
lie down in fields of bone