Into the fog 

The Town 

the annoying 

little sibling 

always splashing, 

wanting to play 

grown up games 

like seagulls 

gathering bones 

Still 

the troubles of 

bigger lands 

riding deep 

on charcoaled waves 

like horses 

commanding nightmares 

The Work 

the folded up 

attitudes 

climbing the ring 

with the world 

like summer-rain 

demanding attention 

Still 

you will hear 

our word 

echoes against 

the night 

crashing ashore 

like sins 

washing their presence 

The State 

cold and threatening 

frothing with tension 

to rhythms 

of our times 

like the ocean 

and its endless depths 

Still 

with every breach 

every pounding 

we still stand 

fast together 

into the fog