I see the red ants, they dance in and out of my lane.
They are shifty sights, plunging left then right.
Cross beams, halogen dreams, burn night's delights.
Dot, dash, the gas, they are coming at me fast....
i cannot react, in fact, i cannot remain intact.
The intrusive death machine, i muffle my scream,
saving my grace for this night flight.
Through glass, through sky, i flip and fly....
savory truth hits me a flash quick trick.
In aerial escape all angles become angels
halos and white wings while heaven sings,
"mind the paths of the heart's yearning burns".
Fatally I land, a mortal man,
gently releasing my own soul's bonds;
an emacipation better late than never.
Final thoughts caught in a bliss of twist.
Allow this burning heart to beat its last
to take its first steps on a yearning path.
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