The clouds that morning were the kind that said someone, somewhere, had been hanged in the night.
Gather round this flame with all the rest
and listen to talk of broken things
in these catacombs of all we never said...
Dishonored at the gate we held
Backs bent, bones broken, arrows pierced our souls
But we did not give way...
Ask, and the world will open itself unto you
The crystal passages spiraling to the center
Catacombs sprawling beneath the busy streets above
In light shunned by those who walk these halls.
Flames pulled the inner lining of my threadbare jacket
The only cover on a soul washed raw
A trickle of blood from an injury I never noticed
Washed by rain from my face upturned to the sky.
The world is cold and dark with pockets of warmthNot the other way around.Like a city in winter—darkness filling in cracks betweenInsulated apartments, thick-paned windows to keep out the nightWhere hunger dwells.But the night must sometimes be braved.To live always in warmth is to be helpless when the cold comesWhen journeys are completed, or failed,Retreat… Continue reading Like Us
A lamp illuminates a stones's throw
And at its edge, darkness reigns.