Red giants loom in the distance,
Sand is shuffling like a deck of cards.
The heavens put the earth to bed
under a blanket of cool transparent blue.
Bright eyes above, millions, look down
upon us with teary eyes.

Gazing into the dismal moon,
I hear violent sounds,
murderous sounds.

Leaves are crawling, dead
in the breeze
like zombies.

The dark earth below
clutches my shoes,
with black, muddy fangs.

The trees are singing
a fright-filled number.
Logs are making fists.

The forest is alive.
I am in the heart
of every sort of unknown.

Looming and lingering in the night,
these strangers breath
goosebumps down my neck.

Brightness shoots out of the flashlight,
shadows instantly disappear.
I cannot see anything.
Still unknown.

Innards twist
like salt on a slug.
Phlegm boils out
of sundried orifices.
Maggots find
a fresh fancy feast.
Once witnessing
eyeballs turn to prunes.
Flush turns pallid-- transparent.
The fine line between
has thus been crossed.
We're dead now.
Now is gone.
All gone.

Lying in my bunk,
the chattering teeth
sound like hail stones
bouncing off a tin roof.
But it's not hailing here.
No, not here in Hell.
Here in Hell it's putting down
a hefty December snow.
Since when does it snow
in Hell?
It's summer in Hell.
That must be when it snows
in Hell.

Outside,
warm tangerine glow
and circling spotlights,
like blood-driven sharks,
illuminate the dead sky.
Two chimneys tower
over the grounds like
erupting brick volcanoes.

I open the window
to capture a snowflake.
One wobbles lethargically
into my palm and crumbles
into white ash...

Arbeit Macht Frei...
Free as a snowflake
in the summer breeze.

Noxious cold blinds,
his blood pulses and
the brain goes numb.
Panic fills the smoke-thick
atmosphere.

A "Who's there?" falls
before a silent response.
A clack under a thumb.
The musket metal gleams
like water in the moonlight.

A fire's scent drifts into his nostrils
as a steady beat of drums --
"war drums"
wiggle through the trees
into his electrified mind.

Moving forward,
the forest canopy transforms--
illuminated tangerine.
Sparks snap like upward
travelling orange muse.

Feathers dance
above the flames.
[war cries]
He retreats back
into the leafy abyss.