Christoph Praus

...

Pistons roaring off the track,
But hopefully we'll make it,
Back among the Stones,
Between the mist and metal,
...

But one bird,
Had not misheard,
Likened to a K,
Rake and pent,
...

There is on top, the world,
A mountain tallest, red skied,
Black stoned fort, terrible cubed,
Wormholed deeply tunnels twist,
...

The Righteous flew,
Through brook and brush,
Fell breath upon his heels,
A dracjon's wing against the sky,
...

Beyond the Pale moon trees,
A bloodied hand,
Clasps rotten ground,
Goes whirling past,
...

On a gull's wings spread,
His scaling cries across the wind,
And winding him through currents vast,
To places known and not without,
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Happy is she,
Careless and free,
Atop her redbrick fortress,
The day is her plaything,
...

Flowers, grass, we have to ask,
Where could they have gone?
The ground is bare,
With greenish flair,
...

The squamous things that lurk,
Slick little darknesses that hide,
Deep within that hollow core,
That needling hurt,
...

...

I live and the sun beckons,
The wind chills and renews,
The scent of nature arrives,
And I am complete and here;
...

...

Pale, alien curves suspended in each grain,
A desert stretches before and behind me,
Which hot and laboured winds blow forth,
They wrap and confine me in blissed warmth,
...

It begins with flashes, sharp, electric,
Sleep won't come, but wakefulness abides,
Nightmare lies that way, but welcoming,
Great, wracking sobs tear at every muscle,
...

...

Behold the bookcase burning brightly,
I hold this thought so ever tightly,
And should this thought seek to abscond,
This deeply, darkly, dark beyond,
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A living castle he,
Impervious, imperious ponderously,
He charges into aeons,
Sunders all upon his path,
...

In between the twisty tangle my voice has fast become all mangled, down in the twisty tangle woods today;

There's something hooty twixt the boughs and smoke all creeply in the leaves, down in the tangle woods today;
...

A thunder's shout and all should flee the lightning's flashing merrily,
A shock of fire on the wind brings mortal fear to all mankind,
A torrent gushes o'er land that God himself forged by his hand,
Yet hope still sparks in mortal hearts kindled brightly now apart,
...