Burn

Writing by Michael Wu. Artwork by Yury Aleksanyan.

Game is candles’ ivory floor

And perturbed pains in my sick bed war

For there little life planks to go rocking

Eve I play with Death, a soulless pawning

Sick I am grown, feeble to withering grass

Tantrum clock for seizing, I writhe to shattering glass

Unmake, undo broken tendons, my unveiled heart

Whoever, wherever you are, doctor’s hand by midnight part

See that I am crippled, yet twice my horses wail

My forests, the trees are far drunken in deadman ale

My angels, good task you commit arms in hold

I take your paper souls now, for the better fold

And I make burning birds, cranes in dance

And my thousands army, a wishful advance

Let upon the witness sharp blood free

To quell the injustice that fouled me

And bring me newer peace

Ashes the shore, last gust in flee

From precipice, my firework glee

Flowers again the migrant flock rouse to sea

Spartacus, Spartacus, the feathered mattress starts to bleed