Crookhead

My mind is like a wood

The sky is dyed with red

Black trees yearn to the stars

A fog like dew creeps in

No wildlife around

Beneath the ground a world

Of strange and crooked beasts

Like thoughts, they fight for me

Lost in myself I try to escape from the wood

Unspoken worlds like black trees to the sky

All is a breath, is a wind, beat together

Crooked animals devour my mind