Un Less

 Roams for a rest
 backcountry prepossessed
  
 cannot in itself
 destroy or complete
  
 near shades of extortion
 where sorrows meet.
 
 Like terror, is an arsenal 
 for availing freedom.
  
 Old weapons 
 appropriate oceans of sky
 
 waterwheel blooms
 and swoons alongside.
  
 While bloody-minded
 makes mudholes 
 
 loves unnameable 
 treasons rejolt 
 
 turns and burns
 a migratory bulls-eye
 
 running 
 half wild.
  
 Beauty scurrying 
 from lonely mayhem 

 lies delinquent 
 starkly in wait
 
 for doubles
 snapping thunderbolts
 
 to spasmodically 
 incinerate.
 
 As sorrow aches
 to trust –
 
 and anguish turns
 to lust.