When Crescent Moon Descends on Gog
When crescent moon descends on Gog,
it dissolves the world and brings the fog,
a place of torment and darkest dreams,
where murky skies are filled with screams.
Charcoal buildings emerge from gloom,
with chimney spires that mark the tombs,
streets are cobbled in shades of grey,
where once a thriving town did play.
Neath’ the walls of broken stone,
a few remain, to call it home.
with larders empty in hollow space,
motions thrive at funeral pace.
Trees are barren, along the rue,
branches brittle where once they grew,
a city forest dead and gone,
suffrage of the poison dawn.
With tapping cane that breaks the still,
mortician hunts for his next kill,
hidden by the steaming sewers,
out of sight from any viewers.
Death has come to those in wait,
there’s no respite behind their gate,
darkness creeps at every turn,
hope recedes and starts to burn.
A hobbled world, pooled in sorrow,
prospects doomed with no tomorrow,
when crescent moon descends on Gog,
the city writes its epilogue.