Friday Noir: Burn Time


Restless and relentless,

Darkness rises from the city floor.

The chatter of the night begins.

We’re all powder kegs, with short, burning fuses.

It’s a singular stance we, all of us, take.

Who’s going to look out for you?

No one.

Tell me lies, but tell them to me quickly.

I know the score and I ain’t got time for the mush.

We can’t change our courses any more than we can hold back the dawn.

This desparate kingdom of ours….

Mottled and raw, it roils.

The darkness keeps rising.

With no option for redemption.

© Mark V. Krajnak | JerseyStyle Photography | All Rights Reserved 2013


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