We stand here - on the edge of semantics - waiting
For the teeth to swallow the city in which,
Lie a million tiny lights.
The teeth grapple at the edge of the sky,
Water flowing among the cracks.
Freedom flows inward - Floods the hearts
of a million tiny lights. And I am failsafe,
Expanding upon extinction - waiting for the vast
Sea of grain to destroy the brilliance of this,
A glowing insect.
But they continue to burn, alas
the water will not snuff their fury.
I feel the wind - moving wildly
from the west - my heart follows
with all, eastbound into the night.
I recede upon Halifax skies,
but only in thought.
The North Atlantic - choppy
within my subconcious.
Freedom is an ill attempt - I pound
at the banks of a soul unbound.
The cries of a million men stuck,
in this the bear trap winter - waiting,
For the teeth to swallow the city in which,
Lie a million tiny lights.
Above the teeth once I flew,
but now am stuck between them.
