Cast me into that sea called eternity,
to lose myself in its unending chorus,
swaying to the Universe’s ageless song;
beyond thought, beyond feeling.
Its notes strip me away;
each star’s twinkle,
each comet’s flare.
Piece by piece the aeons run dry,
the light holds still;
at the end of all things
all that remains is


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.