chapter one.

as they walked on from the mountain fall,
up the valley to winter's warmth.
they were running, running away
from april's cruel showers, to find spring.
up on mount ziijah, the path they travelled fades..
'oh ennuya!' he said, 'the path has been split by spades,
a jumbled jigsaw all barren and laid'
                                                              'oh but dear,
to the telesect we must make a way, which way?
which way?'
then the ghosts spoke in constant tone,
hushed,
soft in whispers that went to the bone:
they said, 'ennuya ennuya, thy young hand laid upon the rock,
you flee! you flee, without nothing more you spoke a smile no further.
you must return...flee this city of letters,
return to your seas'

but the deed was done, and the monsters had come,
worse than titans encased in stone, mould and earth,
a murders they committed, yet in mind, they spoke no evil.
surely a madman's pure wish, the ignorance of the sin,
but yet in lies the devil, ever in charming plain site hideth.
he awaits more madness, to frolic in, he awaits in this tainted inn.

and as quick as it had come to mount Ziijah, the fellows watched
as the grass, a green army of leafy blades sprung up,
again to bury the dead.
no one remembers, no one's been.
the telesect remains away hidden still unseen.
so aunty agnes, to tea you promised,
a great cup if you please, two milks and a sugar,
thank you.
                   you say she sprung froth of the golden
abyss?
           aye she, she hath caused many a pain like
that of the one of the froth of chronos came. she
she drugs your brain, like they all do. tear apart
the simple equation and it's frame.
                                                             infectious powers,
men and women all the same.
                                                    aye, a cake if you please.


scrurry scrurry, the rodents ran ahead,
now the rain rails rigidly rampant again.
a storm in the middle of may.
the ships quake and quiver,
quenching back bitter tears of salvation at last,
offer to them at this period of rest,
when waves pounded round and round the ships' back.
oh sailor, sailor,
help me up to the gallows, a green string
will run around my neck.
where be you from?
                                   phoenicia,
where alex rules supreme--
                                                  nay,
a depressed thought, as the spider runs down my lane.
his venom encompassing my veins.
quickly sailor pull the chord, let nothing remain.

and at last the sea turned calm.
into ice it floated down stream,
off the side of the world, inasmuch
it slide away to be held so silently, tired and bloody.
ringing out the pain. mark those words laddy.