a thief catches fireflies in the midnight meadow hoarding them in her ribcage long has she forgotten hunger that humans and animals do

in the silent fog phantoms cast lines of silver hoping to hook the beast by maw or underbelly and there in the muddy deep the fish whisper of war

autumn noon the rain’s come to play with the warmth of draconic scales

the first spell uttered by these dark lips was that of unmaking the universe

grim roots of rot grasp the dagger hilt and tighten its grip on the drow’s pale flesh

in the dark of a forgotten realm an avalanche of mirrors reflect the blackness of mortal sins

how far the king has fallen feeding his pride on a banquet of lightless stars

a poet writes the blueprint for his madness with a strange quill made of a single drop of the cosmic consciousness

a child of the celestials reaches forth and touches the beast calling it: friend