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Mountain Dust
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Dead Queen
Hot dust belching from the craters on her face; Hell's breath wraps my eyes like fire lace. Creating life from underneath her filthy nails, sent off like flies unto the frail (so frail).
'Descend, Dead Queen.
We left the light behind to be content.
Descend, Dead Queen.'
Only she has seen the soul of a frightened man.
She scratched the earth with crooked spider feet, in the unholy grove where the terror of bare trees rises about and drives me to my knees.
She says,
'Nobody knows you like I do.'
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