Midnight, or almost, deep red in hand,
stomping through crunchy leaves and
snapping twigs, unable to quiet my anxiety.
A subtle burning in the stomach; tighten my
grip around the bottle neck, the trees extend
bony arms that wish to pull me away.
Am I crazy, what am I doing here,
why did I come, I must be crazy – no – I believe!
The stars, specks of cat hair glistening
in the light of the moon, a pearl brooch,
resting on a black velvet sky, over the clearing.
Beneath the celestial bodies, three
pathways appear, The Crossroads.
Three torches held by three arms
burning bright orange in the trees,
accentuating the burning in my stomach,
a blood-curdling howling nearby.
And you appear, mine eyes fall on you,
my body aflame, sourced from the heat
in the pit of my stomach.
Trembling and moaning, I
dig my heels into the dirt,
sweat urging the bottle to slip away,
and I hold it tighter, aghast by
my arrogance (or ignorance?).
The ground rumbles beneath my feet,
the black hound leaps into the clearing,
glowing red eyes follow you,
your guardian, you master.
Closer you come, and my
feeble human mind cannot
comprehend all that you are,
my head hurts, and no longer is
the bottle the only thing that
teases slipping away.
Foam and spittle drip from
the fangs of your dog, your eyes
are dark, reflective of the void
from which you came.
You stand before me, three heads of
bull, horse, and wolf, the scent of
decay, earth, and roses.
I offer you the wine, you crush
the bottle with one finger,
glass shards rain around me
and I descend into oblivion.