Sleepless Night

I wrote this after a sleepless night where I stood and watched a flag blow in the wind for a solid 5 minutes. It was one of those moments where the smallest thing is the most profound and beautiful. I love those moments, its a shame they can't last longer.

This is my place.
A hint of Iceland
In my ears.
A cool rain wets my neck,
And blows through
Unnatural wheat.

I ponder the fog,
And how it can
Suspend orbs
Of muffled orange light.
Those dull suns
Casting their shadows
Against the wind.

Through my earphones
I believe someone
Is coming,
But alas, the wind fools
Me once more.

I turn my damp self
And before me
Is the flag.
Old Glory fighting to
Keep herself from
Suffocating.
Her keystone child
Has already given up,
Withered and wrapped
About their
Collective shackle.

For a moment she is proud,
As any good ol' boy
Would dream of,
But something gives way,
And she falls
Limp.
Never in my time there
Did she rise again.

Spotlit,
Under God,
Above me,
I watched her die
With my mind blank,
And lips kissed
With the cool rain.

I turned and went
Away from her,
Not out of sadness,
But because I knew
She would rise again,
If only in vain.

And as the fog died
That place was taken
From me.
And she became
The martyr of "righteousness" and "truth"
Once more.