We lay in bed, eyes staring through the ceiling and canker,
Of the lives on floors 4 through six;
The f@!?ing chefing cleaning,
Binging puking,
Kiddies sleeping and drunk wife beating.
 
Then past the gassy haze
That man-made, feathers grey
The rump of the dark sky.
 
Swaddling us in it's blanket of night
And of Fire,
Once almighty Fire,
Fire's eons gone.
 
Now dead and cold,
Survived by a billion eulogies
Tearing through the black and empty.
Eulogies of salt and light;
Of blinding tears that they once wept.
 
It's over them that I shed tears,
that blacker still than night
Caress my face,
And mock the blows of giant's dead,
Who tempt to give us hope.