It isn't dust to dust
But rather dusk to dusk
As the full moon rises
And calls upon her blood lust
Her pupils grow wild and wide
As her chest grows tight
This instinct is animal
A predisposition of flight changes to fight
With hackles drawn and teeth bared
The she-wolf rises
Not a soul will be spared

What
The
****
Is
WRONG
WITH
ME

I hope these words have found you well
Better at least
Than when there was a dream of we
I'd hate to find
That your state is that of mine
Haunted endlessly
By an imagined existence of you and I

Poison
The First
The Serpent
The Water
The venomous black ink
Slithers endlessly
Silently
Until she reaches her prey
Power
The Second
The Demon
The Fire
The burning red ember
Watches now
Patiently
As her victim is drawn to her warmth
Sorcery
The Third
The Conjurer
The Wind
The Shadow Of The Night
Needs only
To exist
And her casualty swarms to her allure
A trifecta binds, seeking
A fourth
The man
The earth
The flesh and the bone
A host and a home
A willing sacrifice
Falling victim to her charm
Silently striding to his own demise
He succumbs completely
She devours wholly
The elements are in order
The black magic witch is born

Silence

Digging
The search for words
Leaves me empty and blister-handed
Despair and thought swirl in a voiceless dance
Between my ears and
Any will I've had to speak
Disappears where my breath meets my lips
Guttural instinct has me know
There are things that need to be said
Words to be exchanged
Explanations waiting
Perched
Perilously on the edge
Of solving all
And no going back
And yet

Silence. And everything is dead.