_There’s a lot of squally showers here - the great British weather inspired this one!_

—-

The need to die is real

Like a thousand shattering squalls

The will to live is full

With a pace of rhythm deal

When mixed up in the drama

Your person drawn to mellow

At midnight will be revealed

The hunger of the spirits 

Lying in angst wait for your soul

No man or woman can repel

It’s like a clasp or spell

Dance until you are dizzy

And wait for the low slung bell

To chime (and it so will) 

And with you taken - 

Misgiving and misfortune.