Oh, to hear the secrets of a coiled serpent; 

I will hunt to no end,  

the anatomy of a sin, 

hidden behind a sapphorous veil. 

 

Fingertips over the swaying foxglove, 

gloom hung over a mountain meadow, 

heed the quaking of the aspens. 

You dared to dance to the demon song. 

 

A butcher’s knife hacked into my spine. 

I stand bleeding,  

blood glistening black at the crepuscule. 

Heaven gives a small applause. 

 

Sky of creation, dawn of deception 

with embroidered stars 

and the smallest birds 

born out of corruption. 

 

As the ocean replaces the sky, 

heretic and devoted reaching but never joined, 

puzzles in the answer, 

answers in my demise. 

 

Alas, a kiss of Mercury, 

a soul of fireflies and moonlight 

stands upon Death’s castle, 

weighed against the feathers of intent. 

 

The Devil stands with the details. 

They ask in a wicked susurrate, 

Who placed you in the witching elm? 

I wonder if anyone will mourn your skeleton in the rain.