Mega.

This youthful eidolon
He is conjured by my will
Or has he conjured me?

In truth I wished for his company

But that word that flies
And shows me the dead
Is still far off
I can't even touch it
Let alone understand what it said

Skin-fold wings from the past
Raise the quiet dead
Sonorous
Within my aching head

And another of divergent path
Who comes from fire
Who comes from ice
Good God!
It's crafted in me
Another damnèd vice

The mysterious foreigners have come
And I can only hope to catch a glimpse

Before the strings have settled
The cogs have made their move
Red lights beckon me to bed
The temptress, tempter
Tempting me to bed

And I really should go

But look! Across the plains!
Another like the ravens
That will pick at my alabaster skull
And a hell raiser sleeps
Off this sickness
So that she may rise again
In time

The space colours now
Are all I see
Or hear, rather
Swirling like the night
But with an eldritch purpose
Swirling, not unlike the light
That gives me pause to look
And strain my fragile eyes
To recognise
My even weaker hands

Falling through crowds of angels
And crows
And mighty antelope
I retire from despondency
Sometimes I wonder how I cope