I charge
Through the night
Like a buffalo child.
There is darkness in my eyes
And my hope,
It's a flickering light.
As if it were a candle
Disappearing into whispy
Smoke
My eago is an ice cube
But my heart,
Is a dead man's
Heart
Beating sludge
Instead of blood,
And emptiness
Is my mind,
I write this poem,
As my nightmares
Come true.
And as the
Spider spins
It's web