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How the Tower reached the Sea
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Long ago upon a tower,
A figure rose upon a storm,
And from it raised a glaring shade
And from the shade, a flame rose,
Looming towards the cove,
Hunched and looking for the waves

In this summer sky the tower froze,
Cold and chromed from the glaring rain,
Aiming for the ground, without falling down
Waiting to be climbed instead of wetting up,
The manmade beanstalk struggles to hold,
As a tower resting on an ocean of shells

As the swings of lightning punch water,
The ground, the tower, and sky switch,
They twitch out of place and blacken
They invert like a horror slideshow,
Seeming less human formed until no more
The water today is bricked off, the tower is the ground now



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