Singapore – Page 37 – elancharan gunasekaran

the moss hums in a dead tongue gathering the clouds and eyes of heaven to where the forest needs aid

the winter trees were once dire wolves who chose solitude and eternity over the embrace of the moon

take refuge in my skin the darkness engulfs and the voices will drown live and be loved now and forever

the living ink filled his throat and by morning the world had rewritten itself

they came in droves magi greedy for the greatest spell only to leave with a ghost a whisper and a void in their soul

the noon wind lifts the bones of the forgotten and grinds their names from marble lips

the beast walks amongst us with its mouth agape drinking from the overflowing fountain of human emptiness

we listen we remember the winter wind does neither she bites at the living who ignore her

days dissolve into mist the freed golems listen to the birds and carve poems into cliffsides

how does one burn an ocean the elder wyrm’s question was often met with death if answered silence or ignorance was preferred