Blood Curdled At the Chilling Quill

Blood Curdled at The Chilling Quill Sanctuary I prayed Feet stumbling at a wet dank alter Crumbled brick the skeletal shell Of ancient cathedral Safety Mausoleum in the gloom of battered drips Their ghostly quill of written blood And zombie skins of parchment Write their movement On the clammy tips of sweat Don’t even breathe As the screaming prickling hairs stand stiff As the chilling curdled down my neck I am alone Cold swirls fog phantoms in my mouth And bitter teeth bite at one time warmth As every veil and smack of dark Stammers of cold footsteps Cold stone to grind my fist At Death Dead Un-Living Un-Dead Footsteps Approaching Hunters Moon haunted its taste for blood The cowl of foxes In midnights canine witchcraft Thought to stampede on shattered stain glass And spit the gargoyles fallen head In spells of horror demolished Sainted tiny fire I prayed Sanctuary From the tombs of dusted bones Let me sleep Let me sleep Behind burning eyes And drag from the crag the whimpering prize Of terror Let me edge on the ripping dawn Never to rest on burial ground