Burgeoning Doors to the Mental Autumn

I sway to and fro by the vibrational wind hook Angst about things, a feeling I had not mistook Sigils of decrepitude scored into the bee’s wings I hear the final dirge of the swans distant singing Burned by the bestial stomach acid In the belly of dawn’s decline animalized Glimmering necrosis into unplanned neurosis The colors turn as I lie in bed, Succumbed to the cosmic sickness.