Andy Purdy the Graven Poems

Various versions of night
Are now wielding twisting diabolical deeds
Of good. Our heroes are plucked
From their perch, ripped away from us.
...

When I thought I saw clearly,
I was clearly blind.
So you see, I've waited and waited
For time to waste.
...

My tears rush into rivers.
My breath makes the wind.
My mind, my hope, my soul,
They make me real.
...

Shambles, I stand stumbling.
Rambles, I speak stuttering,
bumbling.
Piece, I break tumbling,
...

Convalescent senseless essence.
An onslaught of useless presence.
Stout and formable, bloated hollows,
The formula sweet like butter.
...