of a womon, who was seen in the hall-way by a passer-by, on an otherwise average tues-day

what happened to long-gone days past by from
the fountains which sprayed water over the populaces
when the light was excreted form the pores
of dayes long past, and the mind was as sharp as the spear
that harpooned the nikolas-creature deep
in the pits of perdition
and now the light is disappeared
now the carrion and worms ethereal materialise out of the crevasses aligning
and alighting the pores upon the orifices
and the skin waxen and sullen, such that a thousand tortoises came and
wrapped them selfes around the nape
and the mandibles
which lay cragged, like a cliff from which many animals jump to their deaths
and scream in a somber melancholy tone
and exude the sentiments of a time long past
whence there were no things to draw from the life force of all things
and destroy the soul from the inside to the out
and leaves a hollow husk,
less a man but a ghost
chasing the power which drives it in the origins
of its existence.