Tot

Dark clad waters, still warm shrouds Doomsday warning from the men in the clouds Lily's weep over light that fled Words were carved in my arm by the dead Grim like war, foul like tar Corroded fragments of a dying star Sleepy herons abruptly awake as the black god arises from the cold of the lake Figure of smoke, emerald head Magnificent is the king of the dead Somewhere beyond the sun still shines But even snow dies sometimes