16 October 2021

Luna

Written too much
The black dog is after my heart
Distilled panic at dawn
As much to pine for trees
Withouts within my way
Songs into the air
And the many blind sunrises
Millions of zombies swaying
Casting blasts only closing
To the great door of mind
And emptiness connects
With dawns of worlds
Fiery thoughts exhausting
And soon to hold vices
Because the winds have
If unto the untoward hither
Where by knowingly curse
The tears of my skies
This crown of rich madness
And throne of poor sadness
Pure to blithely go wistfully
To spite at echoing demons
Proudly every memory remains
This scattered throughout time
With sand does my blood begin
To fall as i you my heart give