• Smooth white forms
    Gracefully molded with
    The best of hands
    Twisted into uncanny shapes
    Dipping in and out each other
    Like masses of nerves

    They wear these bones on their bodies
    Otherworldly symbols of power
    Ivory jaws, teeth, crests, skulls
    Almost like Lucifer’s children
    And yet they used to be
    Just like you

    “What are they?” You may cry
    They are everything
    And nothing at the same time

    The pale one
    Is void of expression
    The essence of nobodies
    Strumming a cello
    Made of the blood tree’s flesh

    A silver-haired youth
    Makes his violin’s wants known
    Dancing among
    The plummeting rose petals

    The one who laughs
    With the delight of a child
    Blows into the resounding horn
    And creates Dark Matter

    I am one of them
    These noble demons who adorn themselves
    And my fingers trill across the keyboard
    As I evaporate back to dust