ORPHANS
I remember their eyes
Windows that revealed
Cold empty rooms
Lit by dwindling candles
And I remember their lips
Muttering the words
Of childlike songs
Set to funereal music
And I remember their hands
Clutching the remains
Of scavenged cigarettes
And cheap bags of dope
But I forget their names
For they’d invent new ones
Aliases to deceive
The harvester of souls
AS THE CANDLE DWINDLED
In the evenings I’d sit
On the balcony and watch
Trains slowly passing
On the nearby tracks
While inside my wife
Shed her heavenly costume
Revealing the serpent
That lurked deep inside
And as her rage grew
Like a gathering tempest
The men on the boxcars
Would wave and smile
As I waved back and wished
I could somehow join them
To be carried away from
The fangs of my night
ANTARCTICA
I remember the crimson candles
Set in their shining brass sconces
The dark and brooding landscapes
Shot through with a lukewarm light
The shelves of books of wisdom
Penned by the world’s great authors
Forbidden to ever be opened
Like tombs that were sealed shut
And I remember the windows
Covered with layers of curtains
To impede any rays of sunlight
From finding their way within
For this was the house of shadow
Reflecting the mind of its master
A man who built an empire
As dark as his endless night
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