Hatchet Wound

The Darkest Poem You Ever Will Read

Walking the stone path through the garden alone

Past the white hydrangeas

Towards the darkened mausoleum

Counting backyards

Left hand holding little bird bones and feathers picked clean

Looking for my evil twin

Willow Witch appears at the gate

Invites in a specter

Dark warmth etched in thought

Magick bundles of twigs formed into Tiwanas hung about the trees

Time slips away

Now the moonlight lights the path halfway

Even later in the evening

Later than it should be I guess

The rose garden delights in the swing of an axe

And its thud in a stump

Pure blasphemy