Scold, scream, wail through shrouds,
rising to a flat howl
green cloud boils over the sun,
colour bleeds from a fluid grave
lashed and flayed, raw and skinless
This tempest permanent, unmoving,
seen or unseen,
exhaustion a quagmire
decocted to endless pain.
Black horizon razor-toothed
of shifting peaks,
light exists not, extinguished,
exsanguinated by faith,
invisible wounds still gushing.
Miles deep beneath and years above,
caverns of echoed faces, viciously barbed,
poisoned eyes empty, look inwards,
laughing discord, Mother Carey’s chickens calling
above hissing thunder.
Corpse upon corpse,
this tenebrous river, cutting and slicing
until there’s nothing left,
nothing to save,
nothing to leave.
Seven billion waves seek the soul,
alone, lost at sea.