Laughter in the Abyss

He throws his head back, laughter splits the night; White scratches carve a grin of sharpened light. The wild hair rises, kindling in black air, While shadows drink the sound he won’t repair. No moon attends; the void is close and deep, Yet in his throat the bright ferocity leaps. Each line is cut like testimony in stone: To laugh is to be human, and alone.