The Grey Green Sea

Upon a black branch, broken and ashen
Which leaves did not speak for fear of silence
And on this night the dead danced crooked

Not a single shade nor color in this moment
Nor the filth which hollows and thinks unthoughtless
An inducted affair, like the red snowbound hill

And in these nights the halls turned straightly so
Of cosmic psychosis that drains the passing sights
My eyes breathe breathlessly, with a quiet screaming stare

In your eyes I see only dusk, not that which smile
Though whose fallibility ruins this pale and placid world
The last breath of the tree brought the end to the page

On this night and on all nights ahead of me
I expect a crawling cry of dread to deafen us
When the sky’s skin opens wide, all will face the truth
Over the grey green sea