thirteen robed figures
stand motionless
in the mouth of the cave
torch flames dance
casting shadows
to blend with the darkness
in the bellowing
stone mouth
tectonically formed
with no rhyme
nor reason
on the face
of the mountain

lightning arcs
through the ominous black skies
at high noon

a tome fashioned
from stretched human skin
sits
on the carefully carved
pedestal of ivory

the world outside
slowly shedding it’s scales
like an ouroboros
consuming itself

the tortoise watches
unimpressed

as the storm steadily falls