Trenchers Poems

Lying In the Blackest Hour

pretender kings
in hollow realms,

sullen on iron thrones,

skeletal fish
in mercurial ponds,

eating their own tails,

fractured reflections
in shadowed mirrors,

eyes following with distorted grins,

salt stained pilgrims
passing bestial gods,

lapping blood in trenchers,

and I, what have I become?

What I have always been.