To Dream Too Deep

When she did not wake, she burrowed Deeper,
Into the corpse-skin of the world,
Where she stole the magic from forgotten gods,
Ate their powers and awful disparity,
Until she vomited her mortality,
In the form of wriggling worms,
Many-legged and blindingly yellow,
(Though when crushed underheel,
They leave beautifully red stains).

Because she could no longer walk,
Having sprouted too many eyes,
She dragged her corpse along the Way,
Torn and twisted into Autumnal leaves,
Spread upon the steps that Aramais built,
His bones settling still in the dampness of the dream,
By blind hounds that howled in her myriad voices,
Howling for the purest death that is waking from
A Deep Dream.

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