Limbonic Art

Like a nomad,
in the subconscious realms
Of the beyond.
The night is old,
Yet I still seek peace.
Restless drifting,
The dark corridors
In the unknown chambers of the mind.
Where is the door, to the light of dreams.
Total isolation.
Land of desolation.
Dreamless sleeping.
Darkness reaping.
Deeper into the night I go.
Darker than ever are the pits below.
Sculptures in stone.
Dark protectors of sacred ground