Dead-Eyed Horror Show 

The old gods cannot be said to be 
dead if they had never really lived.

Gathering Dust

Gathering the dust
                              of your ashes
you cover my hands


My tears find themselves within you

              Forgiveness

I could never ask that of you


Aching knees

Feet refuse to keep me standing

Ache of years

Mind
          weighted and
                                sink
                                      ing
No one will find me here

Alone
           together

To an end

We are ghosts who 
remain among the living.