[Mine] mouths are deep rivers as cold
As the dead that love the living

As alder blight can strike
The love of youth

The unholy woolly wilting
Unlike aching souls for
Golden beasts

When feared
We pray
When comforted
We play
When crushed
We die

In bits & pieces
Like twigs and leaf
That twists and floats
Down a raging river

We go.

:: 07-28-2017 ::