Midnight Sun

Staring at the grey mountains, spilled,
Looming, flipping upside down,
Tears robbed of their last salt,
Weaving oceans’ new gown.

Mist crawling in below,
Nibbling on toes,
Losing hope, afraid of,
How far the world goes,

Is thunders lick,
But gruesome luck,
Or is it by chance,
Made by my bloodstained hands.

Cotton loved by onyx ink,
Consumed, pushed to the brink,
Shoulders can no longer bear,
The weight of broken heir.

Echo calls for me to run,
Far away from the midnight sun

But I can’t leave my shadow behind,
The next storms already lined.