ravens beak with sugared teeth
decaying sure, but sweet as always
scaled, frayed, serpent tongue
darts to and fro, swatting stars.
eyes the same, but capillary numbness
leaves light unchained, no sight remains,
though slightly it can see, with help of rain,
pit-pat-pit-pit-pat, what it has known,
unknown to me, and those who know,
have made it known they won't be telling.
No breath has reached it's tongue
without dripping, forked and silent.
the beast is legend, but hear what I say,
if there could be, just one to help me unravel,
it would surely have to be,
blind, mute, sweet enough to rot my brain.
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