Alchemisland

Both arms raised in victory despite disgrace

Something about this place reminds me of those days

The old ways around here never fell out of favour

I’m a discontinued flavour

Naming things, a label maker, what I make up is your name

Slights I forgave which perhaps I should have made more of

You made me feel like a moron, I’m forlorn and far gone

I smoke more trees than talked in Fangorn, near the Isen

Eyes red, having cake and eating it too, fingerlick the icing

Morgoth how I hatch dark plots

More goth telling Spotify what I want

I always fancied myself a tastemaker

But I look back a fake face wearing layers of makeup

Acres of stately yews border my vast estate

Papers naming you as sole inheritor are terrifying to me

This sweet leaf transforms my grief to green dreams, sole relief and release

Reprieve for a soul diseased, feet cleaned at the meal by Jesus