Skepticism The Raven And The Backward Funeral
led somewhere
the path before me
turning around
numb fingers
fell up on my feet
i was awaken
sinking deeper
filling my lungs with pleasure
thick water
i sunk
on the sky
of grey clouds
fell on an iron armada
glittering in the sunlight
a rain like nails
waves forgotten
the shores were gone
a crew, rowing a coffing across
calm, stormy sea
i laid back on a slow wave,
to the depths of ground
growing down
with nothing to say
facing each other
withering in bloom
black flowers
as it landed away
down a rasp throat
inhaling a monotonus song
on the top of a pine
a shadow cast a raven
i turned towards my right arm
rays drew warmth from my skin
filling half of the horizion
the sun
on a carpet of thick moss
fully covered up by the woods
fell on my face
took a step back
the path was gone
i turned around
