Crowley’s Flat

Crowley’s flat felt rather empty
Rather full, rather contrary
Only the plants lived there, he made sure
When other possibilities arose, his mind a blur
Light in one room, he waited with sherry
Yearning for a different company
Stretching a mind to a starlit symphony
Fearing a change, fearing the same
Light in one room, and the rest darkened to bury
A secret compared to his existence, perhaps tame
Taking up residence in that chair long after their fame