the fire rises
into the void
smothered—
m
m
o ward and w
l p i
dering u s
p
i
n
g
around
like
smoke.
the flame produces
absolutely no light
in the abscess that is
the dark night of the
whispering wraith
within the towering,
colossal gray cathedral.
whilesome wights wisp
i
n
g
aw a y
any
good
memories.
skeletal christ
like a mass
noisrevni
imp-
los-
ion
sucking
like
a
phallic
d
r
e
a
m
scape of scum
at the bottom of the drum—
Yo-ho-ho, my level ain’t that plum—
that matter grayed out,
a fact—no doubt
the fire that
produced
no light
has
b
e
c
o
m
e
a
hope-
less
wight.
eternal
night.
© 2025 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
First published on tristanrobertlange.com, December 3, 2025.
Tittu
-
Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: December 3rd, 2025 10:27
- Comment from author about the poem: I’m now published in an anthology featuring authors from across the Poconos, PA. All proceeds benefit the Pocono Liars Club — a collective of authors and editors dedicated to supporting and mentoring local writers. Available in paperback and Kindle, please consider purchasing one and supporting a great cause. https://a.co/d/58uxM69
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