THE BLACK SKY

Byron said it well, his skeletal thrusting

amongst the darkest dried-up grain

 

no-one could forsee the king of skulls

taking from the green and washing over

the ultramarine

 

I used to feel the goodbye darling

now I chew the dust … devour the root of dandelion

 

bats rioting amongst lifeless branches

natures finest furniture now future-less

 

no tale telling … yet this IS a tale

 

no more embracing

much foraging, more salivating

 

good times boxed up and posted off

addicted to the darkness, addicted to the twilight

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