Shriek

The whip of demonic blue wind

Shrieking a dance of emptiness

Inside the frozen soul of stone

Crying out of vacant eye holes

In blank and glassless expression

Wearing a mist veil of vague dignity

Until morning’s gray pity falls away

From crumbling rock in a winter sun

Shivering lost majesty in hollow rageImageImage

 

 

 

 

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