Sometimes from your oasis
You cannot help but stare
At the vast nothingness in front of you
That once upon a home
Spectral hymns and vultures’ sweep
Bones to grace when toes dig deep
That siren song of Stockholm
Don’t you miss haunting?
Take up a new one, even a couple
Stop this farce of pretend sentience
Come now, come, back to your song
Of melancholy, ache and sordid marrow
There, you will never belong
Or maybe wait, on that one patch of grass
Won’t be long now
Bones or ghost
You will be claimed either way