There was a man walking down the street–He was wearing a long black overcoat –Feet underneath rushing along cracked cement –Holding three boxes stacked one over another –The tops nearly falling off –He stumbled attempting to maintain balance –Mumbling about manuscripts and broken promises–The day was fading and the clouds were a fine shade of gray –He was approaching a dead-end –That doubled as a view to the nearby harbor –No one could deny the sea was black–Rejecting reflection–He reached his destination –The waves were violent –Cascading and exploding –Suggesting a riptide –Paradox and death without answers –He asked a question, quietly, to himself–He wasn’t even meant to hear–It was then he dropped the boxes –Onto the cold damp ground –Pages spilled forth –Pouring ceaseless –The work of a lifetime –Flying into the wind –The man raised his arms –Amidst the swirling stationary–Disappeared entirely absorbed–Finally finding truth–In the final chapter–Of a book that he could never get published.

There was a woman running through a forest –Past rotting tree stumps and protruding drain lines –She was wearing black dress — Flinging a wedding ring without slowing her pace–Her soul could escape upward and explode –A celestial firework show –A new constellation –The flowers gazed –When they whispered she often listened –It was too late for thoughts–Reconciliation a foregone station–Beyond betrayed surface waves–Belonging to another’s mind sea–She came to the edge of a cliff–Legs still churning before stopping–Her heart slowed by the sight of a sunset–The streams flowing down her face –Evaporated in pure orange–She eyed the sky–Admiring fractured cloud strands leading to a rainbow–It was then she begin to spin–Beyond the speed of light—A transforming window–An ethereal entryway—Through which joy may be delivered–And peace discovered–As nature leapt forth from her trail–There was a sun shower–That left the town delirious.

There was a teenager–Who breathed hellfire fumes–From his perch on the tenement fire escape–He saw a world disintegrating–While nobody seemed to care–About the contagious apocalypse–Armageddon and daily judgment night–When street heroes would be slain–By those who both worshipped and loathed them–Amid this chaos and confusion–Order was a crime–Intelligence a weakness–For his whole life–All the teenager wanted were friends–He had a father who hit him–And a mother who was dead–Dad was hardly around–Unfolding his own transient legend–The cement hearted brigade–Dying in violent red flashes –Same as they lived–The teenager had seen the shadow of death and felt a light inside resisting–His proud heart was a shield–His fragile ego a trap–He was willing to let go–If only he had a home–Of his own–Away from the sad comforting laughter–Of familiar doomed friends–They were playing a game–On a hot summer afternoon–When tempers flared –Strangers turned a rival faction– Kids mutating into temporary sentries–Drawing cannons–Acceptable insanity–The teenager in the middle–As he had always anticipated–How many days had he thought of it–Practically tasted it–Alone in his tiny room–Gazing through a cracked window–Squinting against broken shards of sun –At a crumbling empire beyond repair–But before the revolver could fire–It was then he was lifted off the ground–Some sort of never ending underlying love–Carried him away–On a gold carpet he saw in vague dreams–That felt like they lasted years–It let off light unbearably bright–Soon enveloped and gone–With its passenger–Free from the enclosure.