The Desolate One - Tiamat

by a pool

of amber water

a sticky smell

of carrion kind

integrates with nature slowly

green fields i offer you

snowy mountains in present air

the sunflower tounge

on a wave comes the saturn king

to grant the man on the beach

surfing on his orbital rings

a frightened mental vortex we’ll be a sun we seek, a sun we flee

a scar

upon mother earth

a nebular each

the desolate one

the desolate one

the desolate one