Alchemisland

Nuke’s top 5 nights

Frightening sights as delight grim idols idling in ice cases

In deep crevasses left by the recession of Hyperborean ages 

Awaiting lightless days

Hounds bay at day’s drowning 

Alluring, abusive night climbs like a spider sky to horizon spine

On my desk, before the window, a single candle burns

Pervading darkness haunts the edge 

Begs invitation inside like a vampire at the threshold

That which graves cannot hold 

Scent of tomb mould and other old growths in the corridor, groaning and scraping from behind the sealed door of the family catacombs 

Muddy footprints upon leafstrewn steps, something left death and exited shambling 

Ambling ravenous for sanguine offering 

Twigs meshed in tweed, shedding ruined coffin splinters.