a dog silhouette against the black sky
stalking his prey among the angry branches
furious wind brings the scent of moribund secrets

painful howl over the viscous moors
he hunts through the sonance of sorrowful symphony
his voice crashes like waves over the stone wall inside your soul

the barghest
bound to you, pain-filled inamorata
you feel him in your veins
he feeds on your sins, drinking the blood from your regret

the hound
the glowing eyes in a distance; a hellbound light
pull the strings of your guilt
tears apart the heritage of your past

I am going to write.

I am going to  w r i t e .

Perfect for summer sadness and opening gates of hell.

Just  w a i t …