stars trapped and ground fine mix it with lunar blood and river salt a dead god almost returns to life only to slumber again
Tag: fiction
a flame is passed from hand to hand fire learns the ways of devotion
the veil of saints is fed to the fire slowly she rises from dust and ritual a priestess of ash to whom embers bow and wildfires kneel
dawn comes early as the faces of night’s wraiths dissolve in moonwater
smoke script letters rise as ghosts mumbling in alien tongue
none will find me buried beneath layers of subconscious and bones and finally topped off by the bloody rain
the wolves and wild things sing and dance beneath the night sky the autumn moon ripe for the taking
too many names buried in the forest now those same names have found a home in the concrete that invades their sacred space
autumn dawn a tide of forgetting washes over us a quiet reset that we hollow things never really talk about
pilgrims flee at the sight of the saint of scars as he unthreads his wound and bestows unimaginable pain upon those who would worship him even the slightest
elancharan gunasekaran 