THOUGHTS FROM THE OVERGROWTH

There was nothing i had expected at the end

Moss upon brittle bones

Banality behind a waterfall

And multi-coloured puss

Seeping as poisonous ooze

From the silent bark

Of ancient woodland

An hourglass was set upon

The other side of midnight

An addiction to destruction

Conceived upon crystallization

At the place, the opposite

Lays in wait

Rusted

Sharp

Almost methodically mechanical

Brittle bones drowned

In multi-coloured puss

Piled high

Upon its plate

Hidden

Bar occasional glimpses

Betwixt the strands

Of someone else's perception

A deadly bet

On your knees begging

To manifest