C.M.C.H Apt.

[Steve]

here i am
once again.

the cars are gone...
no truly;
there are no engines.

the night isn't a
colour
but the thickness of a thousand crickets
banterring `bout the butchery being done to the world.
--there might be the sound
of wind;
but it could be the
sighs rolling off the cemetery
and tumbling down the street; nothing more
than the distant echo
of the ocean's collapsing fists...--

it's suprising there aren't sirens tonight.
the digitalized screams
could have kept me company
and spoken over those
pretensious crickets;
but here i am
once again.

the cars are gone...
only one light shines on this street;
here i am again
fighting the night to see
who's first to give in.