Gulich

(Phase I: Statuesque)

Lanky winds howled over the landscape

Black waters denuded circles remote

There was a darkened statue aside

Whose hat stuck out covered with moonlight

He was calm as death

Awaited something

But not a drastic splinter interfering with his way

At once tiny movements enshrouded the line

And his shadowed-frozen mimics turned loosing

But there was nothing at all in this bleak

Just taunting him hollow beyond the surface

He cursed them all that night

Whispered it

Along the self-destructive path into his self

Somehow as a sad wretch he seemed standing

This instant, basking anew in his dismal way of life

Projected spirit with loss of sense

(Phase II: Up Wind)

It went on amongst the drapery of dim abstruseness

And something took its turn virtually unseen

His body slowly took in, started writhing and shiver

But everything just happened slurred over

When merely a muted fluid sound reached his ear

Thus his eyes sought something, though he is blind

Glances got abandoned, involved with his fear

The water was drawn by false tranquillity as a mirror

And lured him nearer, slowly, still timidly seeking

As abruptly there flushed an up wind neck-wards

One second of dead silence appeared and froze

Breath and brain just before it drained

The scull gently hit the ground and blood collapsed

(Phase III: The Fate Irony)

Now there was his fate, caught him

The moon just kept shining

Projected a scape-way fraught with a handful dreary light

Crossed by a bloodline and lifeless chill

Further a draggling sound crept through the still

Trunk and head divided

Benighted

Hyaline eyes sighted

When the water embraced the scull

The swarm clustered

Engulfing it piece by piece

Gulich!

Gulich!

Gulich!

Eaten by his sole remaining passion