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The city awakens with a light that shouldn't exist.It's not dawn, it's not a reflection,it's a green-orange radiance that trickles down the facadesas if someone had opened a fissure in the sky. Paul walks down the streetwith the feeling that...

alternating feelings collide in my skullshifting in the elements I vowto leave a storm to brewfaithful suitor of the darkmy lungs full of whisperstalking on the winds a specterwarded guard gossiping on the ethermy dreams spin, and my love...

Post-depression mornings are often so torrid.Many indeed are quite nasty and horrid.You struggle some mornings to get out of bed,So you lie there and suffer and wish you were dead.But somewhere inside does a neurone ignite:"Get up, you idiot,...