in this season of the crow
obsidian glass
Cold dank days, sluggish mind
grey months undo my psyche
unravelling thoughts
Stone, stark outlined
against charcoal clouds
drifting melancholic thoughts
sacrificial offerings of darker musings
Ravens rise leather flapping
feathers of jet, funeral crows
suit my mood
Mould velvet figs, shrivelled
birth maggots of gangrene memory
squashing underfoot
Dead words striding halls
of sickening self pity
lancing swollen ideas
of pus flowering imagination
Darkness rises
filling my soul
with anxious dread...