seasons

 

Leaves strewn on bone-dust, fingerprints

surrounding the scene of the crime.

To say there had been a struggle

would be a gross overstatement.

Death came swift, that was much certain:

straight to the jugular.

 

Thus autumn gave way to winter.

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walk

[while raking through poems I discarded, this happened:]

When the midnight moon howls and grows

and shadow-creatures come out to play,

walk with me among the ruins of trees

green ghosts in a garden of earth we’ll be

and together forget

 

the whole world is scorched.

#prompt chaos: Apophis

[written in response to a prompt on tumblr. The prompt was ‘Apophis’ – the Egyptian god of chaos]

I am nothing
I am all
I am laughter
In leathery skin I crawl
I am hate
I am lust
Worship me,
And you shall come to dust.