The Criminal Mind of Rain.

Sound waves flash their tongues of steel,
operating off of signals
that have been told to offer blood.

The monster's instruments
pound me,
hitting and hissing
around innocence.
I can't measure their beats
for it strides calmly
with my frantic pulse.

For a terrifying moment,
I think my heart is having
a grand warning-
an attack upon air,
but the remembrance
pins my chest.

I've lost it long ago.

This ticking, this wordless motion
a rage taken in meter
must be a distant hourglass,
running along my shattered
skeleton rib.

I have to stay attached
to the ground,
no longer relying on the promise
that I will fly to safety again.

The sky's acid
has pushed me down
and taken chances,
aborting any fleeing
conscience
of whole sense.