Titans

In the middle of anger,

we found light.

In the middle of shouting –

of voices bashing against voices

like distant galactic tides,

of insults rammed against insults,

our fear and pain in disguise –

we found silence.

In the middle of despair –

of hands bathed red

as we fought back inexorable death,

of emptiness, residing in two dark places

(out there, and now, inside) –

we found hope.

In the middle of purpose –

anger for the sake of release,

noise for the sake of sanity –

we found the accidental.

The accidental –

because none of us thought

to check our pockets

until a stray punch,

a stumble,

a fall,

knocked something out.

And then shouting lead to silence,

and despair led to hope,

and our anger went up in smoke,

as Merc’s fingers clutched the metal

of something alien –

something that beeped.

And now –

a rumble in the skies

like the thunder of a storm –

now

light.