There is a Tavern

Upon the hill

A quiet lair, set pencilled

Against the setting sun

Twilight…

The gently eager wind

Rustles hushed whispers

Through the penitent trees

They wait

Steady…

As pendulum clocks

Eyes feasting on every flicker

Black lace, crystal clicks

Swooping tantalisingly low

Claws…

Feel the sheathes of their scythe

Expose, pull-back, readying

Iris narrows to a diamond

Pinpoint

Blood…

The rush of air

Swift splayed claws

S-line arched back

Flight to meet flight

Kill…

The earth absorbs the warm trickle

The pendulum re-composes

Waits, swings…time releases its existence

In a black shattered pool