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Concept Artist | Illustrator | Independent|
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Upon the hill we saw
a figure wreathed in red.
With smoke around it rising
it sang to the newly dead.
"Do not give what cannot be taken"
It's mouth did not move.
"There is no country for us,
and no fruit within this grove"
Where did you just go?
You were here with us, and then
We didn't see you leave
The silent field of swaying grass waved at the ocean above
The giants march past us by the thousand
By the thousand thousand and many more
Infinite upon infinite
They don't look backWe stare on