You may have to squint,
Better be pretty hell-bent...

Why are they so loud? This is supposed to be...
But as they drag and they dredge, it's deceitful...

There seems to be something odd,
A twitch of a branch, and indentation in the sod...

Icy fingers struggle for the handle,
Brittle are the bones, crumbling are the vandal...

Step inside of intrigue and confusion,
When aging structures are mortal illusion...

Breathing in, feeling something,
Not sure its the greatest notion...

Hail, Re-Animator, you are attempting to return me...
As you have witnessed Hell-Fire and life-ending...

A whirlwind, a derecho of such destruction,
But in that quake, such realization...

He wanted to move on,
Find a place of their own...

Cradling myself, home-restraint,
Hoping to make a world that I can't create...

Upon a dusk trek, contemplating God,
i happened upon three fawn emerging from the wood...

The frigidity takes me, and leaves me breathless,
Scurrying around me, leaving me defenseless...