I am a keel so roughly laid
My clock is set and my bed is made
So little time is needed to
Seeming powerful bonds undo
And many a night begins to shake
When staring at a noisome fate
As darkness warm cuts sharply cold
And thinner days meek unfold
The gossamer health crudely cracked
Depth of meaning cruelly lacked
I breathe in acrid noxious fare
Miasma, whose tendrils thus ensnare
With fear, shivering in the bitter wind
As legion star-black mouths grin
A bitumen pill for sour dreams
Where blues of hooked regression gleam.
@nepion_boreas17
