Lost in the dim light of your thoughts
A man trips
The glow slowly rots
Clarity slips

A black tar drips from the roof
The man's emotions run aloof.
Periodically it erodes.
In a hailstorm of biblical toads.

Trapped in a point of stasis
The man falls
Up against a wall he braces
The dim light calls

He hears the panic in a billion voices
Distinguishing each of their choices
Runs towards the noise
And blindly acknowledges the form with a sense of poise.