It came in the middle of the coldest night
Roaring up from the deepest depths of Hell
Striking down from up from the greatest height
Screaming a noise like a broken bell
Riding the same journey it took last week
It can’t be bought, bargained with or halted
Broken words, in dead languages it speak
Years of counter measures have all bolted
It’s stride: unbroken for years, relentless
It wants to be heard – to have the last say
No care for the many pleas you possess
And no demands, will make it go away
So hide in your room and bolt up the door
So the screaming can’t hurt you any more
24th September 2012
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