° E l e f a n t u s c k °

Dark ghosts are cradled in the bones of the ashlands.


Heroin addicts, tremulous in the African dawn,
Dream of wind and rain beyond the silhouette city,
Thrusting its dark spires out into the gloom from golden grains,
They mumble truths, humble stories and cocaine fuelled theories.

Vast grey phantoms crease about strong muscle and bone,
Folds of skin wither in their ethereal shape, rough to the touch,
Ivory shards pierce out forth from the resplendent ghost,
Like tanks the shadows move forward across the sand.

Bones splintered and sand shivers about the feet of giants,
But soon as they came, they are to disappear, fade into the world
No mortals come into this world to destroy another,
But these creatures crushed and for their tusks a dust will soon flutter.

Heroin addicts, tremulous, are hunters by the night,
And as sun sinks, we see their feet, charging about the beast,
Their spears are sharp and eyes are keen, the faces bent with thirst,
Vast grey phantoms are at unease amidst these hunters of the night.

Shards of flint now pierce the skins of vast ghosts in the sea of sand,
Canapés of dark green trees splinter light across the dusty earth,
Some blood in streams pours with ease it seems, as bread crumbs on the path,
...this trail will lead all these creatures and things to rip it’s skin apart.

Hunters throw spears attached to rope, and rip away some flesh,
They pull, they tear, they gnaw, they slash, and they hold it’s heart above their heads,
Some ivory forms their halo; some ribcage forms their crown,
Some leathery skin, stretched in sheets, spread out to create their wings.

The hunters stop, they've done enough to stop the ghosts for now,
These vast grey phantoms, harmless they seem, decay and begin to wither...
A whole century of creature, begins to waste a way,
A herd full of icons begin to desiccate.

The first one stumbles, its leg bone splinters, the flesh rots around the feet,
It cracks down into the ground, but it continues to struggle on,
Each time it steps on to a broken bone, it shatters a little more,
Sheds of skin wearing thin, rip and flutter in the wind.

Like a flag the wraith skin shivers, strips swimming against the sun,
Until merely muscle continues on, now bits of flesh begin dropping off,
More bones begin to break, the whisper of fractures rips quietly in the dust,

Sand kicks up and in a final effort, the ghost drags its ribs across the ground,

 Only bones
Only bones remain,
Just a city of spikes decay,
The tusks are taken, the bones are broken,
And a city begins again...

 Heroin addicts, tremulous by decay, hunters by night, money makers by day.

 Dark stars sit in the sky, and morn for you tonight,
We apologise, if only at death, should we be forgiven for our sins?


The End

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