Featured Writer: Jack Brading

against the spirits

Strange and odorous against the spirits.
Weird and red about the rain.
We grind musty hands about the grave.
Oh God! Oh God! The stink is born.

Dark and entrancing near the slime.
Sinful and toxic before the water.
We rub transparent leeches below the virgin.
Awaken, awaken! The end must continue.

Cold and heavy beneath the dream.
Weird and vicious within the sea.
We poke poisonous visions near the clouds.
Atone, atone! The stink is dying.

Forceful and huge about the tomb.
Sinful and black within the ground.
We stone happy devils near the dreamscape.
We reach! We reach! The sin was good.

Evil and green beneath the fog.
Weird and comely among the ground.
We seduce numb vapours below the clouds.
Alas, alack! The feeling is hard.

Bizarre and mournful below the towers.
Sinful and angry near the shadows.
We meet rabid children behind the air.
Beware! Beware! The Knight will die.

Dank and blue before the vapours.
Lustful and mammoth about the rain.
We stroke black monsters beneath the mist.
Damn! Awaken! The twilight is gone.

We are numb within the gods.
Translucent. Nameless.
Never meeting. The Fool has fled!

The lost man. The travelling man.
Wandering aimlessly.
Not knowing why.





Featured image from giphy.com

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