There's no lamp,
No sleepy hollow,
There's no pack of dogs to follow.
There's no air flow,
There's no inflation,
There's no clue,
No revelation.
There's no sound of birds,
There's no snow fall,
Pushing waves, there's a sea wall.
There's no cheek cold from the weather,
There's no holy insulation.
There's a hole in the yard,
There's a grave,
There's sandy soil,
Lower bodies,
Lifting feeling,
Furry hands,
Tasty grieving.
There's no weight pressing my thighs,
There's no response,
There's glassy eyes.
Wooly mammoth's mighty absence,
Tiny void holds flaming mountains.
Flaming mountains, in the distance.
There's no lamp,
No scalding fire light,
There's no mask to wear,
There's no shield,
My heart expanse,
The burning field.
Rising plumes,
Amoral terror,
Fearsome face,
Honestly fearful.
There's one approach,
That honest terror.
There's no roaring cars,
Just one willing burial.