My heart is trash
It spills its juice...

You think he’s the devil
But he has prayed for you...

Stalking midnights murky grove
Along alien shore quick to roam...

Through the cracks
She sadly slips...

My book is one for masochists
They wrote the epilogue for me in hate...

Beyond oaken facade dark and worn
What monsters conceived and born...

The plague pits, far from empty
Stir beneath your feet...

Deserts that have formed over the heads of kings
Like the callous that can form around the eye...

In darkest soil
At deadest night...

Eat the soup
Just don’t look...

Softly fallen autumn rain
Makes a folly of the brake...

These alien things
So green...