Small things in
twilight haze, become colored
Yellow, red, blue.

Sparklers in your eyes
shimmer in absence of foster
gods. I come to take
you back home.

There was no negative pulse.

In the middle of
ocean exists a volcano
dating the explosions daily.

A city grows
in your trembling eyes. Of your grief
there was no beginning, no end.

Jumping the flames
someone grips your hand
to help you search
yourself.

A chunk of fate
takes you to the sacred peak.