Stern concrete soldiers sprinkled with lights.
Their roofs gilded with stark-white moonlight.
The haze is broken.
A man stands solo on the edge.
His silhouette splashed across the ghoslty eye.
His toes curling over the lip.
Spotlights glaring up at him,
as if he was on some sickeningly sky-high stage,
waiting for the show to begin.
The street looks far away,
beyond his reach,
as if it belongs
to another world.
The man feels distant.
As he has done for all his life.
He seeks oblivion.
But is down really the way to go?