Cunning Words

cunning words the life of thirsty things the cry of the night wolf the cunning of the thief who steals all, and the last beauty as good wine deserves. I saw him in garbled clothes to kill the cold but more than that to hide him at the best for out of place was he where he know and knew he should not be. but there he was. I heard the clawings of a strange and savage beast I heard the utterings wafted on the rain and winds I heard them I heard the frost crunch under the increase of cold I heard the blood congeal inside my veins I heard the things of night all in a hum and it was night for it was night and peace has by now left my Inner Soul, and exile went looking for more Sub-conscious in another land. Yea! my Monsignor, open your eyes the Dawn comes soon to aid the owl presently wise.