Reparations

Apropos, and so as much, such winless count runs on.

Those blackened clouds? They beckon. A wish for me to come.

What company! This misery, it's miserable tomorrow's.

The lessening leaves me wanting, to hope for that which follows.

Insistence makes for a strange mistress. A love that's somehow raped.

Quiet misgivings, oh! These reparations. I lament for lamentings sake.