Plumes of white loom in yellow light as if to shield me from the night.
Pyrotechnics dance a hectic circle, trapped and tragic.
People flood the streets with feet and blood.
Memories return to natures urn where I lay still, heart in flurries.
The moon never brings me joy, yet i allow it to toy.
The sun hurts my skin, yet cleanses the sin.
a Cost to Remain Lost. Such a pain.