the night, so deep
with starlit warmth
vapours rising
from the grave

opened an eye
with severance
and pity, swollen
by former years

in time, trapped
with the beasts of distant ages
likened by anyone
stilled its frost

seems unbearably
in checkered layers
fulfilling the moonlight
tasted by dawn

the slowly dripping
and distant echoes
of something faintly
resembling faces

take upon them
and leave the room
turning with maggots
in a distant lair

now...

flowers have fallen
with highest grace