Waves surround these walls of steel
And grasping claws pull down
Into a tumble of kaleidoscopic grey
All against the white noise of the gale
But I have the dead of static hiss
And the battle of amplitude and frequency
Dialing in this instrument of hope:
The only beam of sunlight against the prison of night
Then across the distance a voice of tranquility
Quietness, warmth and the subsidence of violence
Talk of cats, gentle breezes, aspiring whispers
Urgency in the longing to touch, across the spectrum of madness
But impermanence pulsates and drifts
The bandwidth of desperation spraying across our words
Until white horses return to the gallop
And sunlight contracts to a dot.
