polished bones
etched with runes
rattle in the
wooden bowl
a crow caws loudly
an invitation
to murder beckons
as fate tumbles
in the torchlight
dancing over
sweat streaked skin
an augury of
prophetical pondering
in the swirling mist
of potentiality
dark omens cast
in uncertain need
the future laid bare
on the hardpacked soil

a key, a bell, two coins
a curved dagger
gleaming in the
firelight exposes
dried blood on
the knicked blade
as the spectre of
death looms in the
shadowed evening
of shamanistic intent
breaching the membrane
between worlds
to call forth creatures
of timeless madness
sigils etched in silver
under the pale moon
a warding, a warning
the crows gather
in the bare branches
unblinking black eyes
stare hungrily
as the foretelling
promises only endings