Elsewhere, we are sinful participants. A ghostly sense of community all too comfortable. We never leave, except to escape to sunken city. A place where ghosts and Gods simmer our spirits. There is only good here. Yes, there has been death, and yes there has been violence, and yes, there has been tradgedy. We have to squeeze between wrought iron bars to find our center. But on this other side rest in peace our minds, knowing home is within walking distance and way too far from here; knowing there is nowhere to go but off the edge, and it seems so possible. It is a place like this, a home within my home, much like a bedroom, that i find peace in insignificance.