October clay-foot darkness walks
behind my shadow darkly,
with labored breath, he never talks,
he’s hungry, leer is sparkly.
He scrapes my skin with finger-twigs
leaves me dreamless, barren,
nowhere to turn, my end is near, I dig
my hollow where I call for Charon,
Consuming flesh and breaking bones
my ruler, dear October
hissing pale-mooned piling stones
on graves; I can’t stay sober.
This my destiny; a lightless death
a lepers rot — but gently
he poisons blood, bereaved of breath
he’s kissing me intently.
Today we have a guest host at dVerse, Lucy wants us to write a dark ballad and I did my best…
October 6, 2020