Ghost Ourvorax

Watch, stranger. Keep vigil in the night. Witness as we fools conspire with our weather.

In twisting clouds of spirit-flesh

I imbibe without the swallow,

And hear his song in sunken breath,

Each fantasy to follow.

For body and air confess their cult

In temple halls to dwell--

Far, far gone away into the inner

Sanctum of the Vale.

Dwelling not in liminal

Prostration without sky,

But all-confounding, ever-mourning

Ecstasy to 'scry.

O’er waters black and boiling

I kiss the shrouding mist

And entreat her give me naught,

But teeth sunk into wrist.

For oddity is not so strange

To creatures such as we:

Philosophers and poets-errant,

Lost mystics of the Sea.

What stands between? I wager naught

But Nothing and nothing more.

That is the plight of glory bought

On strange abhorrent shore.

I lounge in waters dark and warm

And think I’m far away,

Yet I am just another phantom

Caught in electric decay.

I cannot see beyond this black,

Though I itch for shape or sound

To guarantee I’ll not dissolve,

Be left alone, nor found.