ART

The hour of my death is at hand
The sea, foaming
The veil, beckoning
Writhing in lament of twisted endless action
… glassy eyed fiend sat still and stared for days

Shrill lyre of seraphim black
Lapped against the silence of the night
Dwarf star shrunk in fear
Sirius twinkled in apprehension
Canine howl alone accompanied the noise
… Sun rising in response

The hour of my death is at hand
Sand grain refinement sifting into the complacent sea
Bead formation expelled, drifting saturnine below
… No ripples wrought up despite the drop

Flesh bone ash limp
Limb immersed into the plane
Weightless eternity translucent whirl
Para corporeality drain

Beckoning, beckoning
Poles unearthed.
Dissipation.
…Phase besmirched

Beckoning, beckoning
Macabre sea.
Seraphim wraith
Waits
… For the death of me