Mad World

,,what is dead, may never rise inside.

Slipping toes, fingers jammed
sweat evaporates & condenses
on the flesh
Ice on the cold, dead skin
flirting with friction
on the edge of the hill
I see a Sun set, drown
In the night, that swallows it inside
stars, an alibi to the orange fireball
nail his coffin, darker by the hour
In moonshine, hounds scream
grabbing a stalk, anchor to this sinking life
clouds float, over the dripping moonlight
candles were blown, no watchtowers speak of light
hear a song, a sonnet of the sunken
what is dead, may never rise inside.