Bash

Tearing flesh and ripping wounds render me helpless.

In the naked cover of the moonlight, enemies gather

To the smell of blood.

A lion cannot battle wolves alone. Like I

Cannot hope to defeat this certain death.

Awaiting in the shadows.

If only I could molt, like a moth, and fly free.

I would soar away from certain calamity and fall

Into the welcoming arms of nature.

In the breast of mother earth, shaded from the hateful

respite. Human nature is the ugliest of them all.

Lending only brutal caresses.

Yet still I seek the ease that love would give me

In the eyes of a lover. The passion and the hunger

That weakens the will.

A touch, a flame, a burn. Insides curdling into a

rotten waste of hopeful longing. The crave of

a sensual touch.

In the growing shadows, the scent of death is

wafting closer. The faint smell of corruption and

shattered bones.

The cool damp earth comes up to meet me and

blackness swallows all sense of what things

used to be.

The skin sheds away. The little memories play

upon the mind, and nothing is left when the

dream sets in.