The Wind and the Water

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.