Lurking around corners - on the groggy

Gas'lit nights that followed so many

To their deaths in this, the age of the machine.

See the tender white crosses-row-on -row

Oh! so-many wind'swept nights of swirling

Leaves and creaking branches, I caught

The whiff of Lady Fortune on the breeze and pleased I was immeasurably.  More fool me  

I introduce myself to darkness - and to its fondest acolytes, death and birth and thoughts of these - 

I now possess all the gross infirmities of mind required

To leave me gasping at the false lucidity

Of this deep-black night.

Black nights: when  sentient beings

Hold their breaths, and cling to the merest tincture of belief

A belief that may, or may not,  see them through this dreadful deep-dark night.