Darkness looms on the edge of the peripheral;

Lurks about, looking for it’s port of entry.

Finds what it’s looking for.

The entrance lies

In between the rain like staccato

Of my thoughts

As

They

Bounce

About

Up

And

Down

And

From

One

To

Another

To

Another

Never

Finding

Rest.

The homeless thoughts provide no protection

From Darkness’s viscous substance

And its ability to

Transude through

In between the rain like staccato

Of my thoughts.