the sound of thousands of leaves wrestling with the pale blue sky
Tag: monostich
she works the molten metal with bare hands calls herself an exile a whore of the eternal forge birthing instruments of war for men and gods alike for a sensual price
armed with bone flutes and glass daggers an assemblage of faces no human should witness
not water not blood something no tongue could hold
blue sap pools at the edge of the universe now an ocean of futures and possibilities a gathering of fates undecided by the mad gods
crows stand vigil on the borders of frost as petals dyed in cosmic light sway ever but gently enough to draw the lich’s undying attention
a ghastly talon scratches at the door that divides the warm flesh from winter’s rime
thoughts derail as the flesh fights its war against winter winds
two skies have fallen one of frost and the other of fire a third sky falls in the form of a crystal songbird as illusion shatters the truth is harnessed from the chaos of felled lies
the lands of the first flame bears down hard on strangers where dragons molt in reverse turning soft before darkness hardens the underplates the sight of unlit pyres tell a tale of moksha the liberation of soul from body and from the clutches of the evercycle not everyone deserves it but a few do
elancharan gunasekaran 