black terraces on empty streets. Tonight, near the barricades, sleep is impossible. I fret in this tomb city, something implodes,
split by dark spasms. Again, I think of you,
sense love's undertow beyond, look in anguish at our warring.
Tonight, the river dons a mask, shuttered windows announce a travesty;
there's betrayal in every brick as young warlocks hunt the streets,
gloved and hooded for death's circle. Trapped in the tomb city,
I suffer the birthpangs of all our folly, inhabit screaming silences,
born to them: There is no escape before light.