I walk in darkness along neon signs
Telling tall tales of lives in fast lanes,
Of hope as the glue that binds
The sinners, the righteous few
Portrayed as pastoral winners.
I walk in darkness along tree lines,
Ageing trunks recount in truth
Their experiences of life
In the slow lane.
I walk with darkness all around,
Contemplating grinding get-goings,
Our directionless dawdles where
Headlights show the way.
I stand in darkness, refusing to take
Another step until I find directions
To my Atlantean, utopian home
In the forest of old.
