Murderous mistakes
must be forgotten,
calling in the swirling
kindred spirits
on all of the pastel and vibrant
howling planes,
we stand firm together,
leaving time behind us
to have a lie-in,
the collective awakened
breath in the wind and water
and deep exhale
coven fire.
Hear me ache,
cry out even
in the night,
for want of hope
or some such light,
so bright
it bludgeons and blinds
the monsters who
grin big teeth
at me
from the Cheshire cat
closet door,
ever scratching down my back,
clawing blood and spit,
they eat their way up
from the deep hell pit
in which I have traveled
for far too long,
so thus to speak at me
in tongues of
undead earthen magic
which shudders my skin.
Leaking teary humans
shaking their sweet heads,
so young,
dying too young,
our wails of grief
vibrate and resound
on the walls of heaven.
