Where the Wolves Come to Die
Josh Middleton
Far from the reaches of the scythe
Bone turns to ash and reignites
An ember within a coffin of emptiness
Sinks into the ground
From the open mouth of the river
To the deep heart of winter
A severed cord from the heart to the head
Where men fear to tread
Hidden from the world for all to hide
Where the wolves come to die
