bombed out and desolate
darkened stone walls
a man walks deep below
dripping tunnels
colorless; blue-black-grey
he opens his mouth to speak
silver sparks fly from his lips
illuminating the dank and mist-filled catacomb
silver and stark white, falling down around him
shards of golden light flicker through the tunnel
falling like raindrops to sizzle on the cracked floor
the golden light burnishes the cracked edges of broken stone
the silver sparks in white mist hanging in the dead air
the breath of hope
darkness ahead, a breathing blackness
the man's slight form surrounded by silver and gold
he walks forever
the catacomb stretching endlessly before him
as sparks rain down
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