Beast of Inordinate Circumstance

tones of grief, epitome of shame

half-wrought notes: apology or blame

throw the stone — regret — into the deep

on the edge, the onset very steep

share the baggage, every single weight

but unload and shear before too late

silent burden hears a lot and more

scurrying like hares upon the floor

steal the thunder and obscure the light

slip them tales of fake and frigid might

wipe the board clean; write it on a slate

stale or recent; do not hesitate

smile, go on like everything’s afloat

keep it neat; there’s slime under the moat

don’t be dour, sour from these limes 

miles to go; there will be sleeping time