Icarus's blog: "Just South of Blue."

Hell is no place for men like us.
The unkind casual lies we tell each other
at the tip of the knife
at the grip of the throat.

Floating along a silent still river of thought.
You crashed, bright, and ecstatic
like some blazing orbital shower
a metoric bliss of rage

And I took the gun from your hand
left the hate in your mouth
and the seething embers from your descent.

All before was ash.
All ahead, smolder.

When the day comes
when that blistering hand rears back to strike
I'll be the one to walk us through that gate.

I will deliver you.

One bullet.
One silence.