Gliding, like the birds who slice through the air just inches above the glimmering water,
Flocking towards the glass oasis in the distance, threatening our stability if there’s resistance.
The dancing rays shine across the surface of the river like shards of glass,
They twirl and leap from pane to pane, leaving us bleeding as we reach out to touch them.
Wishing, like children on shooting stars that emblazon the night sky,
Hoping for the end, the darkness that beckons and wraps itself around our bodies and throats.
In the night, the lights twinkle and call us to indulge, to release, to scream.
Pouring, like the rain that dribbles and comes down in sheets during the early months of spring,
Burning behind glass bottles and within our throats, glimmering under amber lights.
When the first stabs of the sun pierce the veil of the night sky, the lights disappear into the end, into the darkness that beckons.
But we-we go on, we fight on.