Feathers lift my downturn head,
Carrying me to the land below.
Solemn sky and crumbled stone;
Remnants of the Underearth.

The ground of tangled sinews,
The forests of marrow bone,
The heavens of moonlit blood,
The very air; slivers of ice.

Something beats among the feathers,
A pitch black mass; ungulating feverishly.
The many limbs and eyes
Of a thing long forgotten.

Where it leads me I do not know.
But I have no doubt any longer
That from the place I am going,
I will never return.