Beneath a metal roof,
beseeched by pounding rain,
where idleness is breeding discontent,
for what survival and simple necessity
has pressed upon us.

Rain seems to be driving
upon a steel heart,
a heart armored
against every day existance,
slowly beating red,
pressed to the rivets
holding it at bay.

A steady rhythm that waits,
waits for the day
when destiny will not be
in the hands of others.
When the vastness
of what this life truly is,
will be revealed.