In thunder and in flood

you wonder, where’s the blood?

Then comes a flicker in the blackness

and you’re embittered by the madness

striking streaky strokes so squalid

solid sneaky slopes sans-knowledge.

Why? Is an unanswerable query

you echo in the darkness of eerie

fright despite contrite delight

of gleeful ghosts and glimmering hopes




Yes, the Venerable One

has finally come…

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