That gut feeling I get
Billows to the point where
The sky is no longer above me.

I walk towards night;
It is light that conjures shadows -
It too dancing unseen in the rain as the

The cauldron masquerades in the clouds
Creating speckles of sparks
Which are then magnified

By the eyes of the apex.
Homing in as an assassin,
Forget not playtime is over.

…
…
…

If I was struck by lightning
The smoke would carve
An illuminated death.