Bleak as a dark mass wave crashing craggy shores,
thoughts bludgeon hammer and anvil try that I might,
still I wait for the one to ring true, bludgeon no more,
it comes like a comet at night,
travelling to fast to catch perhaps,
I reach hoping to snare that wonderful sight,
and so I grasp, a wondrous thought,
to put to page and give to critique this night,
hoping that it will be sought.