Nightfall bells
in silken sinuous trail
coil ’round the zephyr,
which by queer,
fragmental scream
roams as nothing
in ardent thought to be.
The chiming whispers
seething from the subtlety
announce the arrival
of clanging chains most antique.
And in this garden
of black metallic bliss,
denied their existence is.
In this garden
of black metallic will,
wild wicked
does the gaping jaw
commences the rite of blighting
with memories of instinctive dances
by poison fire and blue lotus medicine.
