Bleak and bleeding shadows, like clutching tendrils weave,
Drawing forth, ineffable heaviness, the binding burden of grief.
Like acid, their gnashing teeth, steeping weak and brittle stone,
Imbuing bitter dregs with sightless faith, the cold and rancid tongue.
Night wings away the shadows’ claim, the feeble dream—a creature, gaunt, alone,
Stripped of flesh, bereft of life, useless eyes, redundant bone.