Panting,
racked sobs strung up, hooks through the ankles,
hang like vapor in cold air.
A band saw orchestrates a haunting hummmmm
rattling the leaves of frost bitten trees, cowering from
the frigid night. The screams of shifting lake ice.;
A Banshee wailing over a thin death ripening. She - the reaper
of souls, a guide through the endlessness, rides a white spectral,
skeletal horse on the chariot of winds, driven in
from the north from a damned palatial paradise for poltergeists.
A banqueting feast of spirits, clamorously crescendos, jolting
the stars in Phrygian ecstasy, as they gorge on souls freshly deceased,
brought by psychopompic black birds -
shepherds of the dead -
to the palace where death and life are wed.
YOU ARE READING
Confusion in Underground Clouds
PoetryThis is a collection of assorted poems, detailing one consciousness extending and swirling into another, and another, and another.
