something different The sun resigns, bleeds out the vestiges – remnants of the day. Exsanguination edges into twilight: red-brown hangs; upwards darkens: blue-brown, blue-black, death-black, disquiet – furtive, like ghoul-ridden fog. A sombre moon assumes its role, gushing silver-white lymph upon the muted scape – a prequel of supernatural undertones to chill the scene, ice the spine, kill the brain – we have unnerved the very firmament. But now a shadow closing down the globe: dinosaurian cloud shrouds the moon glaze, claims the late hour – declared in a dying crow caw. I, the hidden owl – nemesis of claustrophobic minds – awake! for mammal flesh – fresh, jerking out its warmth in dance of death. Rock-still I perch in sculptured oneness with my crooked night-tree, emanating nocturnal allure. Together we scowl together we play the dark upon the land and sky and mind while you lie as dead in your box.
Posted on: Wed, 10 Jul 2013 07:57:35 +0000
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