Unflinching hours past midnight,
hours before dawn,
when ink pools purplish black on paper,
and tortured crows are
silhouetted against a fierce swirling sky,
and a cloud-pale lamb is slaughtered
by the fiery streak of a scarlet-stained leopard’s claw,
the muse is left drunk and mute
breath reeking of the habit,
as definitionless demons continue to duel
and we write them away

Photo Source: Ms Ladyred on Flickr