'it' flows past arches of tainted memories and sticks in the belly as deep as a claw br 'No, ' I cried to the shadowey keep, hush of silence wove braids in the silent of nights weep. br So It was waiting, how cunning to have followed me here, to my shrine a personal haven of personal inspection where no other than a vendetta followed me in the waking. br my mind know piles of extinction and i have broth enough to ken br a worried response from more than one human around me br 'Laugh! , ' I twirled br Lit cigarette in hand, foul creature abreast my eye -leave now I command br But the click glutal sound of impending light- br shattered my concept of self imposed disillusion br Who was I kidding? br It would never leave br It has too much fun torturing my mind-mere erosion br Are these clovers of pickled reflection br and the drumming of It's hand marks the end- br my dream hazed recollection.