He threw a hammer through the window,
And followed it though the glass,
The shards cutting his skin,
Before he landed on the grass.

The peacock fluttered heavily.
Charging towards the sun,
As it dropped and dropped so slowly,
Before the dark had finally won,

The town it hummed with emptiness,
As he stumbled over the stones,
Put there a thousand years ago,
By families and bones

The steadfast suit it chased him,
Through the alleys and the fountains,
Glassed blood it flowed across him,
As he scrambled up the mountain

The summit was bitter cold,
Though he couldn't feel his limbs,
He threw himself down the north face
And pretended he had wings.