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
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