IV

Motionless inside the crypt
draped in darkness
wrapped in death
lies a hand
like a talon

Skulls and fossils heaped about
desolation hangs
like a tapestry
ancient, and moth eaten

Icy dread stabs the heart
tears downward disembowelling
in exquisite agony

Veil of crimson
brushes the eyes
drowing...

in a pool of blood

Tim Brophy 1983