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Henk May 2020
I will build for you,
a path of coal and ash and stone
Cold upon flesh,
expended, marring, broken, and ******

Stumbling blind,
dead end in sight
Promises hollow as bone,
Fingertips tear at the throat,

Choking on nothing, veins swell and burst
Blocking the light, denying the hope,
Abide the noose and it's hunger,
Define, the feeling of fear,
Reminded of the grasp of sweet slumber
Henk May 2020
As the stench of the final bones burning drifts downward and into the soil
The halo of ash intertwines with the light
A shroud 'cross the heavens
Man's kindom denied
At last freed of the symbiote
Their teeth torn from the veins
Peace and monolithic emptyness
Whilst carcasses sink to their graves
Nourishment for the new growth to devour
Debts paid in death and in full
Cracks in the bronze of the bull run deep

Smoke suffocates the ground
Roots choked by wisps and tendrils of what has been
Echoes of life drift into nothing
Dying breaths upon the wind
Work in progress
Henk May 2020
lying withered
veins long dry
the flame that once brought comfort
signals doom

quivering with ache
falling away
dead petals upon the breeze
drifting downward

no more than tinder
moth to flame to ash
beauty and it's decay
a vacuum of breath

and so it goes
as it has and shall
unending and flawless
vicious and kind

all that has been
shall be undone
that which is destroyed
is not lost
Henk May 2020
Pile stone after stone upon my chest
I deserve not the breath that i draw
Brittle bones house a pulse ever softer
As they splinter, caress
With the grace of the moon descending
And force of the guillotine's blade
May the echoes of my death rattle fall upon deaf ears
And be swallowed by the lapping waves

May my bones please the hounds
May my flesh feed the ground
May my heart cease its ache
May the sun rise again

Oh sweet sleep
Still and unending
A calm descends upon the embers of being
The coals cratering my eternal home
As deep as need be to bury these shameful bones
Henk May 2020
I saw the fog as it came crashing through the trees
As if the heavens had changed its mind
Striking the soil,
The fields untilled,

At last, imbalance,
bitersweet imperfection
Free from the yokes of the ether
The heat of the stars but a memory

O! To become breath itself
O! To speak and to be
O! I am that which the light denys
Forsaking shape and dimension
Relentless and undefined

— The End —