mercury spilling from black
in pools that polish a worn path
to the lair of an ugly and
stumbling on, he trips on toil
bastard branches that hide under
he curses the wider world for his
current state and narrow opinions
Inebriation. too drunk to stand still
too weary to lay down, drowns in
he stumbles on over temper rutted
pools of black on the track so well
stop! what is this?
ink of ignorance maybe.
Its shape lends itself to that
a question mark in ebony.
dreams emerge. edgy shapes erupt
and faces of thoughts entertained
the stains coalesce and rise
before stricken eyes
a raven ascending
a shadow only
the track is wet and tacky
warmth and cold invade a failing
he feels once more the terror rise
he dies in spreading shadows.