Hailstone Mind

At night there comes the hooded thing

The thing of dark - of winter bright 

Alone I sit and wonder at it as I have so often prior  

This thing of brooding malcontent, this thing of cold desire 

This thing of broken lust I trust it not? I trust it dire    

These scars are all I have of you so let me love them true  

In wanton heat now glowing I find my time unflowing and the 

Rhyme now grinding down like black space falling inward like
Your atmosphere you stuck me like a pig a piece of cloth a rusting
Cog and now we fly to meet who made this grin like you believe in him and hope