My windows, never open, the sky light, drips the floor,
Never were there tongues to crawl, had there been before?
Through those hazy windows, open skin to taste the stone,
Another dark sky melting, beyond the dreams of what's alone.
We're stalking white, my windows, a drab curtain of desire,
Left behind and retching, in the vague moments of this mire,
Dead creatures were worth watching, a stone to skim the world,
Never found the taste of white, so wicked and so wild.
My apparition, shall it haunt you, in all this tepid green,
The sounds of all the children, no longer knew what to mean,
In all my blinding glory, I've found comfort in the mesh,
And like a scar I'm hidden vaguely, a promise, lest we forget.