A.B. Jakobsen

At the cusp of eclipse

It shone with such feeble light 

A fiery ring spilling from its rim

I grasped at the evanescent sun

As the black moon possessed it thereby

And an alien shadow was cast

That loomed beyond any mountain

And deeper than any sea

With blighted eyes I fell aghast

By the cosmos’ devilish decree 

 

Out from hills and horizons yonder

Black noise jutted across the sky

Rippling towards this aethereal king

Heralding its legion of ghoulish horror

As that be all this majesty will bring

And though you may call me a liar

I be but an occult explorer 

If not for my wit and senses, what sense do I have?

When one with the universe does enquire 

 

3/2/2023