we wear barbed halos and pretend to be saints behind us the shadows cast black out suns
the fires of autumn ride luscious clouds along the quiet coast and one can only wonder if its beauty is peace or destruction should it ever make landfall
insects blind and filled with fury bend metal into impossible curves raising bridges into the abode of the mad gods
ghosts of autumn wear fabric of unfinished prayers for warmth
travellers collapse as their shadows walk on beneath the titanic gaze of monolithic arches that steals one’s breath
the delusioned inhales serpentine fumes and the propechy you ask: decode the language of her antagonized body
once empty palm now slick with dark oil raises towers of shadows and winged anomalies that orbit red moons
white bundles left at the feet of mad gods blacken with desire smoke becomes fire seething with life
whisper to me the name of the grey wolf who howls upon the misty hill and I might just reveal to you the wonders of the dark after
petals smoulder and bees consumed by lust try take flight only to explode into technicolor sparks
elancharan gunasekaran 