Lashing the world with
certain anger, certain death
the blows come down like
and the world picture is blurred
and runs in rivulets down the canvas
like blood

The pale visage of
certain hardiness
and clench-jawed emotion
and the eyes like glints of silver on the horizon
across the pale pale plane of death

The notes on the page, so perfectly
aligned on their lines of
become as ants
so much noise

ants marching
says he, and look, I can step on them

Violent schism, war and Darkness
that squeezes the heart
and it bursts like
the death of the ox
and the rain on silent leaves

death is like mist in the rain forest
says he, his own pale lips
cold in the somber morning
after a night of rain

swallowing oceans
whalesong unheard be the
clench-jawed sailor
navigating his mouldy ship through
waves so high

A village somewhere in the north
and the wind howls
and certain snows obliterate the
years, and the eyes bleached gray

whalebone gray