Dark Night On The Forest

The forest’s edge stands astride,
giving way to thoughts of obsidian tint.
Fingers of plutonian ore
swallow beast and tree
in despondent sigh.
No comfort comes from the starless sky;
the Moon is veiled in mourning.
Critters of leaf and grass lay unmoving,
fear held in dilated irises.
Those who own the night thread e’er softly,
seeking sacrifice to appease that old god, Hunger,
upon an altar of rotting leaves and cold soil.
But hark, dawn’s sword splits the blackness,
scattering the shadows away.
Respite comes with the morn’s first light,
under twinkling radiance shapes take form.
A new day strikes for the forest old.
Somewhere, not far, a bird sings indifferent.


A Fine Line

Everybody fuck along

I already know this song

Too tired to shake this beat

Won’t even lift my feet


Cut a fine line to paradise

Only way to give me a rise

It’s a slow walk down to Hell

I’m in no rush, I know it well


Pallid faces swim past me

Can’t make a space to plead

Guess I’ll crawl under this hole

Let it chew and spit my soul.