I don't even know your name,
But I think I know something of
The state of your soul,
My Dear Poet Friend...

For, we're all stricken with
The same disease

A poisonous venom
Which courses,
This very moment,
Through all our veins

A disease for which I have found
But One Cure

---

And I must warn you,
My Dear Poet Friend,
Not to look so long
Into your own heart

For, there you will only find
The disease

.

I take no comfort
In anything apart from
My rest in Your arms

.

Through the darkest night,
In the midst of ash
Ahead of its time –
Where the blackest black
Of filth and fire
Consume, devour – repeat…

A Light shines.

And while fools
Dance with death
To the tune of
An evil they call “good” –
Grinding their teeth
To curse and boast…

A Voice sings.

And as the earth groans –
Aching under the weight of
The birth of many children
Called “Destruction,”
Who've grown to eat and ****
Their own…

A King reigns.

.

.
Here I tread on a woodland promontory—
With wings and wind conjuring the rains,
All is vastness and shroud, open, empty,
Even the light is carried away in silence,
My flesh all but smearings on the tableau,
Foothold of dream within disrupted dream,
Our hands once reached out into forever,
Now my soul is seeping from veined cairns,
Cut chains, mist, rains hollowing the wind.
.