This is the sea tide of harmonies,
a blind dog leads the seeing to standing pools –
somewhere over the horizon of mists
the lichen monstrosity
flayed for monstrous crimes
against inhumanity, teeters off the brink
of its uncanny world.
The resigned faces
of the slaughter men –
their sweat is the stench of death.
An opaque kiss
veiling the dark under a pallor of smiles.2.
Ochre flames are caged
behind walls of iron. Hungry for meat
this carnivorous wight soldiers on – mindless,
yet possessing the intoxicant garments
merciless pain, agonies that tear out the entrail-
shattered heart and the wisdom of blood,
fresh from the forest-wilderness
romantics could not touch.
Hammers beat over the souls of the living,
what was once living is the brooding corpse.