The evening attacks as the figures howl
Unhinged with ferocious divination
On the prowl for faded possessions
That drip with empathy
Dismantled by their frantic obsessions
Jaded faces painted with longing
Of ownership and belonging
Just to be a child again
Pulling marigolds out of the ground
Drowned in sunshine and sleepy with hiccups
Handsome dreams lined with soft petals
Dewy with downtrodden tiredness
Tricked into maturity
But still tickled by memories that take up time
Fickle fragments of the day
That shatter into your realm
Conspiring against the truth
You sniff rails of excitement
Gazing, you suckle on the sky
She chuckles with her eyes
And hurls you back into the forest
A green and twisted hunter’s path
Shadows giggle and glue together
Flames of hope
Your homage to the dark