A molding horse
catches flies
their eyes
shades of aqua and green
Squirming under its screaming gaze
Strange, dirty children at play
In a meadow filled with rusting war machines
Petrified titans, alien forms; hideous and frightening
Death? Or maybe only slumber
Dreaming of silence
Dreaming in the void
Whatever dreams the ancient and insane
vampire gods dream
to console their trapped and gibbering minds
Forever licking the wounds that bleed black water
onto feet made of clay
What turned the old gods' eyes away?
Who hung this rotting horse?
From the dead tree (which gives no shelter)
In the shining meadow, where poison children play
Who beat it so mercilessly, so long after its wicked demise?
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