Gulich

(Phase I: Statuesque)
Lanky winds howled over the landscape
Black waters denuded circles remote
There was a darkened statue aside
Whose hat stuck out covered with moonlight

He was calm as death
Awaited something
But not a drastic splinter interfering with his way

At once tiny movements enshrouded the line
And his shadowed-frozen mimics turned loosing
But there was nothing at all in this bleak
Just taunting him hollow beyond the surface

He cursed them all that night
Whispered it
Along the self-destructive path into his self

Somehow as a sad wretch he seemed standing
This instant, basking anew in his dismal way of life
Projected spirit with loss of sense

(Phase II: Up Wind)
It went on amongst the drapery of dim abstruseness
And something took its turn virtually unseen
His body slowly took in, started writhing and shiver
But everything just happened slurred over

When merely a muted fluid sound reached his ear
Thus his eyes sought something, though he is blind
Glances got abandoned, involved with his fear

The water was drawn by false tranquillity as a mirror
And lured him nearer, slowly, still timidly seeking
As abruptly there flushed an up wind neck-wards
One second of dead silence appeared and froze
Breath and brain just before it drained
The scull gently hit the ground and blood collapsed

(Phase III: The Fate Irony)
Now there was his fate, caught him
The moon just kept shining
Projected a scape-way fraught with a handful dreary light

Crossed by a bloodline and lifeless chill
Further a draggling sound crept through the still

Trunk and head divided
Benighted
Hyaline eyes sighted
When the water embraced the scull
The swarm clustered
Engulfing it piece by piece

Gulich!
Gulich!
Gulich!
Eaten by his sole remaining passion