I sever cement
crack crust
and launch magma
into China.
Stride slices air
sending eddies
like hurricanes
into cities.
I flood my wake
with sweat,
and you will know my presence
by the stink of mortality.
Only giants left breathing,
titans, gods and heroes.
As I run past the unlit horizon
I whisper to the slumbering sun,
and bid him kiss you good morning.