deepundergroundpoetry.com

THE GIFT OF FAMINE

My madness
Spent upon silver dew
And wilted yew
By the cracks in my shoulder

Ventured
Beyond soot and sleet
In the blackened wood
Rotted flesh, those paths
Of which I hew

And from the pale I am saved
Your ululations from the shade
To where my feeble heart rewinds
Your ululations I cannot find

This hollow season brings me pain
And sorrow, the trees know the same
For all that is emptied
Must be engorged by solidarity
As all must be
They bruise upon the twilight
Their fallen dreams

Lost the sky
Bound to earth, we lie
Bask in the moonlight
Call their name
The door beyond the pane
Faced towards the flame

The light
Wanes

Face me
As I face you
Where darkness slumbers