The sun is astir,
The waves awake,
The rush of ocean defeaning,
Birds’ plotting heads bound together;
The ants, they are stocking up for the drought.
The shadows’ tails grow longer by the second,
The clouds are rolling in fast, their arsenal tucked in tight.
Ligtning and thunder mar the dark expanse,
But the city remains asleep, shrouded in blissful ignorance.
The dark spirits shed their skin,
leaving dark illusions and nightmares in their wake
the keeper of night keeps a watchful hold,
the shadows grab hold of the mind of the sleeper, planting seeds of vengeance
Watering empty longings, making scarlet beds
the furnace is heating, greedy to be sated
but the city remains asleep, alive, but dead
the sun makes her descent, her back turned on her unmarked ascent.