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
Dearest
Heart to beat
The end would not
Sit by and wait
Dearest
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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