The Spoonbill Generator

Ineluctably, you woo me. The clouds [F]

Are heavy, but no rain falls [N]

You speak, then turn away [F]

You promise so much, [B]

That I am undone. The clouds [F]

Are grey, but no thunder rolls [N]

Hell is limbo, stasis [F]

I ask what you desire, [N]

you give me words, formless, gray as clouds [F]

Foreboding, but unfruitful [N]

A glimmer, the merest flicker of light would help [Beefy ]

Or the patter of gentle words on the parched earth [snood]

No matter. I am yours. [Beefy ]