It's clumsy and malevolent
But in a way it's salvageable 
Banging and door creaking 
Without passion behind it

The giggling behind is melodic
Cold and rusty at the same time
Only time can wrap around it
Malevolent blood-soaked curdling from it

It is not violent without being provoked
Where does overprotective of what it has
It screech is not like one another
It's words is unkind and unjustified

For it is live longer than you have seen
Boiling pasta lies under its skin
In a romantic way our greed made it
For it is the thing that has no name ancient and wise