We stand here - on the edge of semantics - waiting
         For the teeth to swallow the city in which,
Lie a million tiny lights.

The teeth grapple at the edge of the sky,
         Water flowing among the cracks.

Freedom flows inward - Floods the hearts 
     of a million tiny lights. And I am failsafe, 
Expanding upon extinction - waiting for the vast 
             Sea of grain to destroy the brilliance of this,
A glowing insect.

But they continue to burn, alas
         the water will not snuff their fury.
I feel the wind - moving wildly
       from the west - my heart follows 
              with all, eastbound into the night.

I recede upon Halifax skies, 
         but only in thought.
The North Atlantic - choppy 
                within my subconcious.

Freedom is an ill attempt - I pound
               at the banks of a soul unbound.
The cries of a million men stuck,
          in this the bear trap winter - waiting, 
                For the teeth to swallow the city in which,
Lie a million tiny lights.

Above the teeth once I flew,
                          but now am stuck between them.