User:DarkConundrum

Death of Dusk

The sun resigns, bleeds out the vestiges – remnants of the day.

Exsanguination edges into twilight: red-brown hangs; upwards darkens: blue-brown, blue-black, death-black, disquiet – furtive, like ghoul-ridden fog.

A sombre moon assumes its role, gushing silver-white lymph upon the muted scape – a prequel of supernatural undertones to chill the scene, ice the spine, kill the brain –

we have unnerved the very firmament.

But now a shadow closing down the globe: dinosaurian cloud shrouds the moon glaze, claims the late hour – declared in a dying crow caw.

I, the hidden owl – nemesis of claustrophobic minds – awake! for mammal flesh – fresh, jerking out its warmth in dance of death. Rock-still I perch in sculptured oneness with my crooked night-tree, emanating nocturnal allure.

Together we scowl together we play the dark upon the land and sky and mind

while you lie as dead in your box.