Wandering the Tideland

Treading the lifeless expanse of the skoria
To a hollow of the earth
Provident winds lift the sands
To unmask remains of strange artifice
Abodes are these, or vessels?

The grave markers of the ghosts of this land
Revered myths
In unmoving judgement their making stands
Bellowing in the deeps and darkest places

We, cast-off and wandering
The arid spaces orphaned by the tide
Abandoned hеre too, huddling by hearth
In crude еncirclements
Haunted by those unseen eyes

Their temples are the looming mountains
Life, begat of eroding downpour
Descended from those higher
Invoked with mere nameless rage
Bearing upon us in ubiquity fore the sightless

The outer corporeal, temporal shield
Withers and scatters as flesh
Destiny then, only subsidence
To rejoin the foregone in dirt
Yet before us reigned masons of the outer expanse
Farseers and sojourners amongst the lights of worlds

Here, upon a drifting island in the infinite swarth
Left with a sole sardonic keepsake
Two hollows with which to behold
And all-consuming lust for sight