Financial crisis.

We have still not recovered.

Demand your wages.

Observe your progress,

Find yourself anew each day,

Find consistency.

Who would have mercy?

When death walks upon this plane?

None in Faerietale.

Sands washing highways,

Scrubbing the hillsides of sand;

Desert erases.

Raging tides throw storms,

Battering the cliffs and sands,

Distant thoughts of coast.

Bicycle rider,

Zipping past all the traffic,

Obeying all rules.

The winter remains,

As I pack away my coat:

Vortex, polarize.

Fiscal investment,

Getting your shit together,

Adulting at speed.

Wandering aimless.

An Irishman too far west.

Out of place, right here.