still, a singing

i escher etch labyrinthine dreams
& crawl my cobwebbed understair
thumping feet on ceilings,
pounding fists in sand
empty-thoughted screaming
along the promenade while
their long gonnes fire rounds around
bloodsoaked murder in every sound

hammer march, hammer march
one two and two through
swinging scarlet soaks the gloom

and here i am, blind corner sitting
still singing of a time once free