Voidling, shard of the dark
Where flesh and star marry
In your hard shell, below carrion, all our universe carried
Never started
Carved on my heart
Holidays in the Algarve
Dishonest mage in owl garb
Adding carp eyes to an admix, manifesting
Plotting, digging plots, planting, now’s the trowel part
Invisible entities play their part
Perched parrotlike on my turret of my arm
Harder to photograph than a black cat or a haunted gaff
My mind their plaything
Ripped apart soul equals worthwhile art
Needed answers, something less cryptic than Tarot dances around
More plain
Went from buttoned down to bussdown without explanation
Went to see the famed Old Maid in the flame-lit garret
She wanted all pay, tall, broad-faced
Once silverpalmed this emaciated rake-thin snakestress started shaking.
Alchemisland 
Leave a comment