Limbs
The trees are flesh made.
Gauntly etched to form gangrenous limbs,
Skeletal fingers lacing outward
For the heavens.
Nails,
A multiplicity of fungal greens
That curl and sway about the breeze.
The trees are flesh made,
Blood racing within barcomulch veins
Stu Buck
Wed 25th Oct 2017 07:01
excellent. reminds me of the band Sikth and the lyrics that are throughout their album The Trees Are Dead & Dried Out Wait for Something Wild. great atmosphere here and i love the brevity of it, says what it needs to say then slips back in to the shadows. excellent. said that twice now.