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The Fire Hall
I look through the window; what do I see?
A candle in the darkness; is it beckoning me?
The obscurity is a skyscraper; does it really scrape some?
The candle is the Fire Hall; is it begging me to come?
I wonder why, so late at night is the light of the Fire Hall still on,
Will it keep blazing even when the gloom is gone?
And it holds the eye like moths to a flashlight,
Radiating forth the final solution into the night.
The pull is strong, to this magnate magnet am I attracted,
The contemplation is thrilling to have life retracted.
It was made to be an exit in a gross emergency,
While I'm not itching for this I do take a fancy
To end this flow before it is snatched away,
To be the Saviour of my own day.
To know the unknown, or at least pine to know no more,
What a wondrous world to perhaps explore?
I stare through the window till my eyes are dry,
Then I blink and blink but never cry.
When I look up again the Fire Hall is bright,
But now something else does catch my sight;
A beautiful pearl floating in the sea of the sky,
Its mouth is curved; its eyes are kind,
The Fire Hall's flame does it most certainly outshine,
The soft stardust wind making its heavenly breath mine.
Putting to sleep the thrill to seek,is this drug for keeps?
I think as I gently drift into indifference, into sleep.