A CAPABLE MENACE

There is only one way through it.

I found my knees when evil came.

I was soiled with roiling and agitated thoughts, torment, and tears, sleep an unreachable tonic to quiet the pummeling fists—to shadow and innuendo again, GO, my midnight plea. A merry-go-round of headless horses, and despair this was. Beset on me.

And I found my knees.

So, it's going to be like this tonight. Face to face with it. The side of me was buried but restless, loitering near. What I conjured and connived was inescapable.

A capable menace, I am, if pushed. If pressed to the wall, I am a gifted man.

And I found my knees.

I prayed hard when evil came—the ill and shrill wind within.

I prayed hard, I did.

On my knees.

When the phantastic stormed in.