Proxy titledeed

 the stench rolls off the surface of the rotten lake
the cold breeze recoils in horror
The steam of it fornicating with methane
Those trunks sticking up from the muck
verily crow covered 

eyes through the blue darkness
a thousand restless creatures squirm through the filth
as if death was given its permission
to mix heinously with the living
It´s rot its majesty

Attempt to crush the decay
and you just join it unknowingly
A salivating devil slurps and salivates from under the swamp
Eyes upward toward the moon
and out of the crows skulls eyes
that unholy union bound with their lil popcorn like souls

Death given permission to grow back flesh
Out of decomposition fresh man steps onto the dark soils 
head toward the moon God challenging him
staring him down
dangerous words in the form of winds and hail
peeling off the leeches and silty slime

The man observes
unconforming wolf drinking that swamp like soup
and bathing in it fore slumber
the language of infection
Death´s stagnant ear
still listening for the howl and bark

The man heralds the crows now
Crows rocking on the trunks like rapid feverish wasps
blue lighting bursting into dusk and fighting it back
farewelling the sun
staring down god himself
setting a contract down on the thick mud
to sign over the universe