Driven by vagaries to the bottom.
Sage lifts burning at both ends.
A mortar grinding into a pestle,
Overflowing with transmuted gold.
Keyless passage
A hall of arches
All doors refracting doors
Like a lachrymose reliquary,
A shadow swallows a rusty claymore.
Ebbing down into hues of red light,
Filling a black cellar with no exit.
Like a drape of blood...
Filling the cellar like a drape of blood,
With my mouth agape -
I swallow it all.