The wind wailed like a wild boar over the rocky peak which hid the company of dwarves, hobbit, and wizard. The night was dark despite the full moon and twinkling stars. The shadow of the journey ahead loomed over all within the small cave though many had managed to capture sleep on such a night.
The brooding king sat outside with arms crossed across his chain-mailed chest, his iron ax leaned beside the rock beside him. His words had made the night darker as he carried the greatest burden of them all and would not let them forget it. Those within were gladdened thus that he had chosen to sit in the moonlight on watch leaving them to their slumber, though not all had closed their eyes.
i was a light I couldn’t turn off.
a signal i wasn’t able to ease.
i was a gun devoid of silencer.
i was constant sound, ready to burst your ears.
i was a broken windup toy, a doll marching on, disconnected, loose arm, hair reduced to a blackberry bush, a sequence of shadows. of shadows.
The eye is conveying a devastating loneliness. He speaks Over and over again He fills your stomach with rotting words. The crime marks his legs, it stains each step of his. He’s walking the white line between desertion and murder. My wrists were heavy. I should have delivered you to your absence.
Knives are shaped beneath the waters They rise They rise to the surface The sea returns everything. You grew wings even before leaving your egg. You moved them, hit against your shell And made yourself smaller just to gain more space: You were advancing by consuming yourself. My wrists had been cut away by your roses. I should have delivered you to your hunger.