We stumble through the forest
Its dark canopy blocking the blood red sky
your tears form a salty precipitate on
my shoulder
we stumble onward.

We're on the verge now
the forest's canopy no longer fending us from the view above
paralyzed by the sight, we collapse
the city is no longer a city

Twisted iron reaches for the maroon clouds
blood-stained cement meeting fire
there's a heaviness in the air
and it lays deep in our lungs

we walk a desolate road into the belly of
the great beast
and the road is littered with its dinner scraps
we stumble over road maps, car tires,
children's toys
the flicker of firelight stains the tarmac

The pernicious sculptures begin rising around us
we walk along streets devoid of their creators
we're lost now
we're lost in the womb of this monster we've created

Deep red blood flows from teller machines
as our pale white hands shiver for warmth,
and our fingertips go blue from the
frosty wind