At the edge of the city where I live скачать в хорошем качестве

At the edge of the city where I live

At the edge of the city where I live, dusk collapses in slow motion. At the edge of the city I stand, evening caves in over broken land. Little bats of smoke take flight, soft-winged shadows in dying light. Ash in the air like silent rain, drifting down through rust and stain. Breathing in what we become — industry hums where hearts go numb. Falling, falling, greasy black soot, Soft as rot, it settles deep-rooted, Like guano packed in heavy stone, Thick and hardened, overgrown. It settles on roofs of twisted tin, on lungs, on thoughts, on skin. Heavy rags of rain keep beating metal sheets that keep repeating. Wash it with sorrow, wash with blood — still it sticks like fossil mud. We scrub our hearts but underneath the soot has grown into our teeth. Falling, falling, greasy black soot, Soft as rot, it settles deep-rooted, Like guano packed in heavy stone, Thick and hardened, overgrown. We are new — a different breed, Forged by coal and steel and need. Not by gods, not by pure mind — Carbon, iron, oil combined. Poured in molds of molten rage, Cast into a factory age. Built to stand on shifting ground, Hold the human line unbound. Famine came. Guns came. Blind belief and plague. Still we stand — suspicious, together. Children of matter. Falling, falling, greasy black soot, Soft as rot, it settles deep-rooted, Like guano packed in heavy stone, Thick and hardened, overgrown. Lift our hearts — only the one who lifts them owns them. The fence around this divided ground shakes when we breathe as one sound. Blow on it — let it bend. Let the smoke rise upward, friend. Until our minds grow bright and clear, Until we name what’s inside and here — The forces outside. The instincts within. Order begins when we let light in. Falling soot. Heavy truth. Falling soot. We are proof.