The Surrounded

They escape before, but their shadows walk behind,

filling the city with formidable dark,

spilling black over the sun's run gold, speeding a rumor

of warfare and the sciences of death, and work

of treason and exposure, following

me for an easy mark.

The sky is travelled by brightness, clouds ignite,

flame is incised upon the martyred air;

the city dissolves in foaming craters, stars

falling in multitudes dazzle the sky with fire,

and I pursue them, I am pursued, and

they are everywhere.

Now there is no more brightness, and no shadow

but the shadow of a thought, and I'm in jail enough

to know conviction with prisoner certainty -

haunted by protest, lacking completion's proof,

surrounded by shadows

more plausible than love.