Hmmm...

I wrote this a good long time ago. I think I might hate it.

A lone man runs beneath blazing lights
in a world filled with fear.
His legs should burn but there is no pain;
everything is disconnected.

A fire burns deep in his eyes, always hot
never smokeless.
He runs for love, he runs for hate, he runs
for fear of something worse.

The dark streets beckon, come to me,
gashes in the black.
An iron horse rides smoothly by, looking
for a glimpse of his face.

Into the cavern, dark and dim alone,
encouraged to meet his fate.
The dragon sits, always waiting, live
and let die.

He longs again for the salt, the spice,
the gun against his head.
'To hell with the devil!' a joker cries,
but he is only joking.

Blue death awaits him, a phone not ringing,
watching, fearless.
The pain, the joy, exuberance of being,
everything is connected.