In the distance, the nearby First Baptist Church of Montgomery
illuminates their cross gold
Like a warning to the town and all those within;
Sinners that stand, oblivious, to the might of it all.

In my hand, there is cold iron, aching my frozen fingers to the bone,
fuel guzzling through the hose.
Wind chill whips my hair in my eyes, blockin’ my view
Of the premonitions brought by morning.

In the sky, an oncoming sunrise bathes the horizon east of me in blood.
Scarlet muddles with the fading night,
As if Jesus Christ himself is an open wound
Dripping from the heavens.