tourists mesmerized by the haze the death of your lungs

the forest has a different tale to tell after the rain

first light the ways of the flesh comes into focus

all the ways we could have drowned but we chose to stay

autumn before dawn the quiet reeks of violence

ceasefire when the last soul has let go of vengeance and hate

the storm outside uploading self to the darkest cloud

in bed dreaming of quiet tones of grey