My Queen of Pain

There lives a thing in me  
its proportions both great and small  
as it shifts intent  
yo-yoing menace towards safe grey convolutions  
swaying a nauseating tilt towards verge  

I catch myself  
with sweaty grip on my being  
fighting like panting dogs  
a bent-knee posture  
…..my good will bowing to the un-willing  
 
and I know this thing would be my Queen of Pain  
 
her sovereign urge monstrous  
would seek to rule whole my rationale  
leaving ignorance in tyrannies wake  
 
there is bliss there and some warmth  
as it radiates from the glow of Lucifer's Halo  
 
….but I hang on like death  
to my railing of cold certainty  
hoping for the world  
I do not fall