She exchanges emotional currency for a martial assault on everybody
Who smiles in the dark not being seen, but fades away.
The behemoth economics of the affect poise for attack on him, cowered
Behind an irritating shed, where moss creeps, emerald hues on everything.
Standing without a wreath, hovering over grave stones, to mourn upon
As if she actually cared, but her heart bends the way she feels. And she feels nothing.
Simple stars and the rough beast to come blends language in a gyre,
Churning like butter, passed into a sky of black gems glittering
The melancholic sounds of ravens, to illuminate the night in the end.
I’ll rest for now, the night has passed,
The dawn of a morbid sun close my eyes,
Into sleep.
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