Kirkdale At Dawn

Lunar Gaze Resigns Its Grip,
New Sun Cracks from another world,
Sprinkled On This Uncoincious City.
Insects Scurry From unexpected Exposure,
Into Dark tunnels from times past..

Iced hills of Tarmacked Road,
lead to the river of the blackest Ink.,
Covering Cobbled Streets, Echoing still,
Sounds of Horse and carrige,
Ghoulish Factories, Cotton Panths Poverty.

Arrrgh There it is,
Certanty The world Still Spins,
New Songs from birds who own the earth,
for some few blessed moments.

The Birth of Dawn is Upon Us!
Ship Horns Roar Through Mersey Fog,
Vibrating Buildings from kings and queens gone by,
becoming Steadily devoured by Modern homes,
holding promise for lives yet lived.