The Desolate One

Tiamat

By a pool

Of amber water

A sticky smell

Of carrion kind

Integrates with nature slowly

Green fields I offer you

Snowy mountains in present air

The sunflower tongue

On a wave comes the saturn king

To grant the man on the beach

Surfing on his orbital rings

A frightened mental vortex we'll be

A sun we seek, a sun we flee

A scar

Upon mother earth

A nebular each

The desolate one

The desolate one

The desolate one