If I were a dagger,
the murkiness of the moonlight would
reflect,
...
A child's precision
a white paper world, crayon-colored.
Delicate shape, formed by
small, clumsy fingers.
...
Hear the thunder, in cold, dark skies,
temper rising as he curses at nothing and everything.
...
(I)
First note sounds.
flooded silence in this cold, empty city
...
It loomed over them
Menacingly, but also
Temptingly.
Some tried to run
...