Something wicked
this way it comes;
the night it cracks
hear beat a drumb.
The fell branches
that have fallen fast.
Wafted bent back
has dry green grass.
The world moves so
in such ways it stays
til both you and me
we find our graves.
I am mesmerized it
comfort I have found.
That we shall together
face darkened clouds.
I raise a glass to pain
that will pass so soon.
Beneath the stary sky
the lit shinning moon.
That I should write
in macabre timbre fed
is because I see clear
though the sky is dred.
Dred from a blood
rushing up and down
my frame I the same
hear mortalities sound.
It can be blissful yes
but often more is pain.
That ruminates still
my friend we’re same.
I’ll meet you there it
is a cold place we’ll go
but on our journey we
bask in words a glow.
