Would Be Sweet (poetry)

Grey clouds sit
On demons’ wings
And fight
with my mind nigh

They cause in all
The wakeless dream
And fight
with thoughts aside

If rustle roused
And caused to me
Heart to beat

The end would not
Sit by and wait
Would be sweet

But, alas
‘Tis not the way
Of all
For me to taste

But love still waits
Withholds and tight
Of all
Will give no haste

Is peppered here
Within my mind
The dulled
And muted clang

Of rounded reach
To nothing touch
The dulled
Bell hardly rang

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