live with the wolves?
howl like the wolves.
upon this dark and moonless night
my lonesome howl is but a silent whimper.

by day, I am a spinner of threads.
by night, I am a hopeless dreamer..
I wish instead that I were a believer.
alas, a bedhead is my crown of thorns…
and The Devil’s uninvited
silly jokes and cruel tricks
are nails which keep me fixed
upon His crucifix.

the trickling of sand
upon my weary eyelids
turns the moon
dark and lightless..
turns this humble satellite
dull and lifeless.