anxious eyes awake
greedy for harvest
tile floor under his feet
cold as any day had ever been before
icy rays shine white down streets building walls
exhast stains pristine roads till evening falls
this town sleeps
but he's awake stalking
until in bled the light
time stops
a pit collapses under his thoughts
the frozen windows
footsteps just outside
no time left now
their reflections are now [bad word] one
a triggered reflex
fatherless sons
it's done
look what has [bad word] drowning in his panic
washing through veins
moving in sleep
the horizon line is turning on an axis
fueled to the edge of perception
soaking palms
moments foreshadowed in dreams undeniably real
hours turn over until 
this is the sole resort
find sentinent refuge 
the manifestation of sores
and as the pasture opened up its arms
days lost in an abstraction
this mind has strayed away
glacing down as he begins to fade
decades die and still there's no escape