The Funeral Part I The Forest

In a forest full of lies I walked,
till in a clearing where I sat,
those creatures who crawled to me
looked hidden by air’s veil.
Absolute silence as far as the wind blows,
and our hearts beat baritone,
a bear was drawn to our blood;
circling around in steps with the pulse.
Hair like all the others,
a lifeless pale shade –
the life about
like a soft
wax melted.
Walking up to me the bear
sat in the scorch and ash
which is his wake,
to stand fiercely in such presence is
a hero taunted with torments from Hell.
The animals part from the smoking grass
the bear with a terrible scowl –
his maggot gargled growl grants
chills to my spine. “I am the king of lies.”
“And by this night’s end; so you too.

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