This is a land of plain and peak,
Of stark and barren moor.
Here in the dead wind, black wings creak
And grey skies keep the law.
-
This is a land of ghost-skin trees
Whose branches wound the sky.
Here there are stones and bones and keys,
And here dark feathers lie.
-
This is a land of crow-plucked eyes
And soul-fled sockets staring.
Here you are watched by the land and her lies,
And her black-feathered children, glaring.
-
This is a land of sculpted fears,
Of hooded, sickly light.
Here is the sun to dry your tears,
And here is the creeping night.
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About the Creator
Jackson Howling
Supposed to be studying for an engineering degree. But words are fun too. They keep escaping. So I thought I'd put them here. Favourite words: silver, Juarez, psithurism, twit.
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