The sun sinks into the western horizon
while to the bow of my ship,
a sea of red lights can be seen
crashing onto the intersecting highway

It seems I've navigated these rough seas
of black tar for centuries.
Warm asphalt currents & fuel scented breezes
carry my ship to her sacred port -
a place to view the red falling star
crowned with cosmic painted heavens,
sink into the dawn of the Far East.

The treasures of this kingdom are all consuming,
and has captured this sailors heart.
My scurvy ridden carcass craves for
a taste of this kingdoms quiet peaceful nurturance.

The sirens song taunts my soul
as I glance at my hour glass,
mindful that this kingdom only lasts a few minutes
before night falls and a new world is born.

I'd be there already but these currents are bombarded
daily by the torrent storms of rush hour,
accompanied by brake lit rip tides,
making this journey dangerous & time consuming.

As I press on, closer to my destination,
a dense fog rolls in created by the diesel powered
tankers, which command these harbors.
The fog is lit red by the warning waves
of frustration & confusion.
Threw the carbon tainted clouds, I can just make out the shape
of other ships passing into the pre-twilight.

The sound of obscenities, squealing tires
and roaring engines echo against the steel & concrete jetties
which line the shores of the harbor.

For hours I navigate threw these ill-tempered waters,
as these conditions close my window of utopian bliss.
It looks like today, there will be no reward at the end of my voyage,
only hope for the voyage of tomorrow.