Poetry

The long tentacles return
to gather you,
in clawless loops.
 
What do you see in the godless
domain of winged
colts?
 
The colossus had
glaring flaws. Binary
curse falls like a barrel-bomb.
 
I remained oblivious
of the uncorrupted dawn,
rising from the ruins of fallen saints.
 
I am standing on the
grey rock, where black and
white meet. Time becomes a moment.