Eventide

Eventide drains sky-blue watercolours off the                        
atmospheres worn canvas and into his box of Genesis.                 
I explore under scatterings of night-lights,                      
curious footprints marking the end of time.                          
                         
Earth forces a tempered smile as I                          
dye the air bright with practiced ease,                          
imagination held harmless at bay once again.  
Meanwhile, the Unknown drill their attack plan                      
into unearthly sly-minded creations.    
         
In the unlit with doubt ruling the shadows                          
I shoot risks down dead, experience as bullets.                      
Secreted by darkness I dance a broken silhouette,                    
thundering silences chanting hope steadily.            
"I am alive, I am alive, I am alive".