even naw she still

Even now, she still holds
The doll as if it could

Be the mascot of some
Terrible age, the mind's

Memory clogged with bilge,
The images flooding

Each nightly dream, the harsh
Echoing words like off

Keynotes ringing in her
Ears through the turbulent

Years; and he unmoving,
Unconcerned, gazing from

His tall age, violent
In his dark mood and rage,

Terrible tongue taunting
Across a blackened sky.