My demons come when I am weak
wounded lion spirit
hyenas scratching at my bloodied sides
fingers pushing at cracked glass soul
corpse of decayed love whisper vile insanities
once kind life voices mewling crowing
over fresh ****** wounds to new for rotten
push your grey fingers in through my split skin
fish hook tenderness as you disport in my misery
defiled by the profanity of soiled joy
black shapes flap and rattle at the thin glass
break through with the shards and pierce my soul
my heart is frozen by your lapping rising tide of eversore caresses
too late to cry for help if death comes to me in a demon's red eye
it will find a fallen spirit of light burnt by close flame falsehood
and regrets barren embraces
held in the grip of the twisted gone
it  is the crack-scabbed tomorrow that mocks my today
wounds cry tears of knife edge expectancy
arms shrink at cutting-shrine memories
God cannot stand against you but vomitting can play his role
4004  6015 numbers list your mocking horde
to late for redeemers blades
reject and defile the war cry of the un-dead
choosers of the slain cross skies of dead hope stars
No dandelion seed would stoop to carry my soul
too twisted for heaven's soil
rotted leaf shrine heat of decay warmth
no hell for demons to dwell carried within heart-carcass vessel
sail through eternities baying grief this reward
cherish fear and pain marks the hours of still alive
window of thin despair ready to crash but striving still
gossamer molecule threads still cleave to me
fight against 1916 cloying of death-sweet expectancy
shell hole camaraderie with last summers corpse gas kisses
twenty-eight pills later summer needs to come soon
at four degrees I can be water ice or gas can I be alive

Under leaves you sat and dreamed
feeling summer's warm caress
no shadow was upon you
no stain or doubt
but you tarried over long
beneath the vault of green
waiting until autumn's leaves
covered the forest floor
Now under leaves you sleep
but you dream no more

Sitting dreaming, mind locked shut
looking into her dark mist
forgetting the living
only the vague dead
flit through her gaze
I am her son
then her husband
she has to go home
to feed her dog
cries with the worry
then a moments sunlight
"Are you new?
You are a lovely wee boy,
you are an Angel!"
No, I am just a cleaner,
I just like to talk to you
that is all I can do

Amber eyes and fleet of foot
on these moors a spirit put
born to run for runnings sake
nothing will her brave stride break
distance all the fastest hounds
queen of green she skims the ground
fears no clutching claw or beak
high among her purple peaks
a gentle creature hurting none
as blessed to see as winter sun
in her proud eyes freedom holds
beneath her feet her world unfolds