honest yoke
Beneath stubborn soil,
toil, bubble, burn,
churns broken stew.
Seeping through steamy fissures
these slivers of azure blue.
The buried and mauled
pay their toll and dig on through.
The rain upon the ground,
skeletons of every hue.
Down to the bone a melodic tone undead
scraping against morsels vomited chew.
We the skull masked,
brew our innocent scramble
in dirt amongst the ruin.
Rust bolted mechanics
of halted morbid musings.
Guts scrape and screw.
In the temperance of nectar
a rotten corpse, bled from thirst.
Spitting backwash brewin'.
Upon the bowels of the earth, turf upheavin'
the caves collapse out a friendly ditch.
A pale flow of rock salted rivers remembered
snake scratch and etch a haunted glow.
Within a feeling of listless lichen peeling,
skin mossed remembered itch.
Against the tide, ebb of time...
In the death languished
anguished lash of low.
Sickly slide of dooming drench
and dredge a slaved stench, sunken.
Grieving letch wrenching bitter scent,
rises up and overturns tunnels twisted.
Bent into the freshest earth
by measure of stuffy increments.
Silt and turf mesh ashen echoes
in the dusty tombs womb.
Sparks of subterranean filament...
A filthy light that hovers lamp-like
across loose rash of rocks.
Against this backdrop of bioluminescent sky.
Rebirthed into deepest voyage of spiral
spindled webs and obscured overgrowth.
Cadavers betrothed to these ancient stones.
A sing song to atone to moaning mourned musings,
the muttered madness misguided...
Simultaneously sardonic and delighted.
We shift sweeping particles of laze
and dulled delusions that hover
against the sauntered shadows
of the listless and alone.
Sunk into the muck of this undertow
of barren cavernous waste.
Fasting and frightened.
Like burrowed lightning,
we split the rock
and bury ourselves into hiding...
An afterlife rare that we should ever see
the lights against the sprawling heights
of heavens tiding.
Arched over by the world's misery.
Pressing down upon depths of chaos
a grave of darkness in the deep.
In the mourning of the loss,
the passing of a friend.
We're suffocated by
the cruel unflinching machinations,
a death grasped frigid cold...
of this inevitable end.
strange hound
vocal pine
molten hemlock
sullen pilot