Mythos of Mania

The maddened moon unseals your catacomb.

Awakened by stardust, you are flesh once more.

I see you with deadened irises.

You are soulless, just as I remembered.

Then, you see me across the river;

staring back, a mythos of Mania,  

head tilted aside in blunt curiosity.

Fantasies crystallize inside of your eyes,

marbling a kaleidoscope of desire and fervor.

Bones rattling, teeth chattering.

Tasting the air with your lies.

And I hear the mortal inside of you tremble.

Cooing for sustenance. Begging for revival.

But your heart is soundless. You see,

those of flesh will ultimately find flesh and

those with gills, glide gently beneath the river

and those of dust desire swift winds to fly freely.

So, I disintegrate into dust to escape from the flesh,

swim in the river to evade sight; live by day, but die by night,

because you are of substance, but will always be hollow.