Still and almost as if I could not see it, at the foot of the ocean borne along by the driftwood there it lay and as the marble darkened the colossal and corpse pile, arcane within it's being, shuddered it's wings
As I stared and my eyes engaged it, there were voices without speech, 'twas the same day the fearful banished it from the old town, the stairs and the moors
Then every wild and unseen flower, begged in song beneath the foulest twist of stench
Still it lay enveloped in the driftwood, the moon dripping on it
In a bid to avoid the swallow of a day by moon, those with speech bellowed upwards in defiance
Then were the days when the mornings were grey and every greying, long and ever longing

Deep within something so surreal whilst alone on the isolated savage coastline, I observe tendencies of deep oppression in offerings that coldly washed upon there

And for a brief moment the woe doth seize the gnawing

On a steeple a lured albatross did settle, looking at the creations and laughing
Whilst the gallant ready'd for Europe deep with warring
Frame this moment, paint upon it and cherish it fully, for when the clouds turn to red, then the water we feed from will crush our lungs behold the creation;
Behold the music and woe between horse thieves

Never did the sparrows gather in threatening flocks, and never before did they dine uon the village
"It dwells unseen in the air, something immense, unfinished" bellows the eldest of the old of gold for his theories

I often watch my love whilst I hide amongst the caves and without fail she would appear followed by the wooed moths, head fixed down looking for things
I remember day when the moths tuned against her, shredding her flowing her

But aside from the hustle and the bustle of the crowd, it creeps with strength and with vigour, it goes unseen and without a sound

Whilst alone on the savage coastline, I observe death before my sore feet
Cometh the fiour, come forth the day where the whales' blood stain the whole bay

Bring forth the years

And with myself, time has become red and discordant, of days on the lake with a renowned English poet, the days I would talk and have him believe that removing his eyes would help him, to see that if given the time then his eyes would surely deceive him

Slowly

It mumbles in the ears of the demented, promises of summer and garden frolics,
Of wine by the river bank and of April love in hallucinogenic red sky teachings,
But again misery palls a blanket of menacing clouds over the scene leaving no refuge for the fleeing shadows,
Leaving depression dripping freely and leaving breathless lunatics face down on the hillsides

Softly

"The noises it leaves upon the stairs of hundred, ssh, I can hear the hooves in the storm, as men return from the ashes of Herjned with gifts of amethyst
Sometimes after the rain and between the snow I would catch a glimpse of it on the cliff, young is it and dead we are"

A lifetime later, in the base of an oak tree plans were afoot; beards of long face, of wise - books and scripts of it - they told me of fire, fire from my fingertips, before lighting a pipe and trudging out into the blizzards
And then never

Forever

In this room the curtains move unaided and a dog now announces our coming
Behold the recreation, behold the music and woe between horse thieves