Transverses seas
Engulfs the globe.
Mighty, strong, ever-present.
It see all,
Hears all
Consumes all
It is ever thirsty,
Ever lurking in the shadows
Behind the sphere,
On the edge of the umbra,
Waiting for the turn of the Earth
To feed it.
Your Empire of the Dead,
Your control over graveyards
Your legacy of corpses
The flower blooms,
Perfect petals release perfume
Designed to entrap and entreat
The scent smiles upon your soul
And caresses the deep aches
The smell is the closest thing
Your nose will feel
To the melancholy the ears dread and pray for
Of a Dewdrop Sonata
Elegantly crafted to strike tears within seconds
As if specific
Just for those ears
Heavy boots
Young men
Bold heart
Red hearts
Bleeding hearts
Exposed organs and brain matter
So pretty on the petals
The September chill has set in.
My bones chip of icicles each morning,
I yawn and shudder and keep moving.
The empire slows me not.
