The headlights dissolve night heavy ink A new day is born from the darkness of the dusk before We shriek and swerve around the curve onto the heavy bridge. And POP! We should've stopped but our stubborn live won't give. Our hearts are pounding in desperation, to get to our destination. Freeze the bells and clear the roads for the blue Sudan He pounds the horn and and screams at the glowing eyes, attached to floating bodies Another pump of break and I am thrown out on the road Rush of warm air as the door closes and another opens I want to reach my destination, so I run, run, breath burning Not another soul dwells in the hallway, with a door ajar like the mouth of a snake Numbers, so many numbers as I trek up ridged mountains I see a familiar corridor, the air gets hotter and hotter. 235, I swing in my desk and the bells holler in jubilation. "Right on time." His rumbling voice says.