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…