Alchemisland

Sights reminders of acid rides, the spine confines

Vials of fine wine which indulged provoke elevated frenzy

A grave barely able to contend with its meal, my spell lends

Strength to the dead sufficient to bend bars, coffinlid scarred

With nail marks, an iron bar, a concubine in a lion mask dying

Bleeding out upon a satin starmap, Orion teased out in orpiment

Opals and sunstones sourced from the jewelfoot of Mount Abora

The foothills rank with the flyblown remains of brave explorers

Exchanging vigour, vinegar and vim for a flickering chance of flame

Fame that they might outlive their day, make permanent their name

Despite the grave we all must claim, the glaives with which they made

Their way, the jungle reclaiming any space their blade had made 

Before day’s end, they have done away with fairy tales, boys are men

And men wonder why they have come to this hell of thorn and venom

To put words on vellum, it seemed then a great trifle of pride, their ends

Fitting their crimes, apt penance, to die jealous of eminent men

In the hateful jungle, by a hidden henge enveloped in vegetables

Nothing left of them but scraps of illegible maps and gnat

Black bones, a smashed raft whose snapped sail at half mast

Showed the folly of plans for men and mice, divine devices

Disguided, the games of Isis decide our time, Norn twine

All decry demise, some descry our ends by sun signs

No man knows the day or hour; so he came so he will go.