Safety in Numbers? I chose one, alone.
No wolves know where my door lies,
Yet there is no peace here,
Feathered things stare through my tiny windows.
There is no hiding in a house of ashes and glorious failures,
A house with a single room.
Losing touch.
Stare long into the shadows and the darkness begins to distil,
To blackest black liquor, I dread yet dare to drink it -
The meads of madness.
Black herons watch through the panes,
The wait and watch and preen with their cruel beaks,
I cannot keep them out forever. |