The night was sleek,
The black covering shadows,
The rain tore through airy wind,
My hope would surely close,
The pain was torrid through my spine,
My head pounded like a tin roof,
My mind scattered throughout the night,
My thoughts hovering and aloof,
My eyes sank towards the muddied ground,
I saw a burrowing worm making it's way home,
His bitty self dug and dug,
While I stood there reading his poem,
He disappeared within the dark night,
Along with my deep black thoughts,
His tiny self came to my pleading rescue,
And was the stifler for my bleeding clot.
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