.
And the night comes darkly
as seconds become minutes.
A million feet shuffle as
the mandolin's strings vibrate
hard like diamonds. Drink the darkness
slowly,the sickness will come, thick
like a pocketful of sighs.
Let's carve our initials into
the moon while it looms
so low and naked over a poets' sky tonight.
Minutes become hours, days become nights.
Now we walk a little slower around
the windowless corridor.
Me, the raven, and Forever Moor.