And in the nights to come the sky will empty The stars will leave the mourning to rusted moons Lowering their eyes and coughing as they go In early twilights breezes glowing guilty Fiddle with leaves and all the brittle coffins Lie scattered beneath a single trembling bough
Forget the lies of a vengeance still to come Whispered by plumes that rise in fretful ribbons Nothing stirs the covens they stand without shame Consumptive figures of fun with all their claws Raking the flaccid clouds and when the rains Do fall the witches gather them up for oils
And who’s to say when the urge might strike again To leave the gate for misery’s herds ajar So lie right here my peach where the husks are blown And lonely ghosts can watch us night after night Damping down the dust with trickles of nectar Let ravens scrape the sky with their broken wit
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