Unwinding by rhyming
Binding myself inevitably to a side
A house built strong and high, away from judging tides
Hiding pricked-pride brine-bricked Atlantis
Millions of tents wrought from animal hides across my land’s span
Went from panhandling to land management, keep goals in mind
Belief subsides, appears to disappear, but never dies
Non-stop sirens brush away the blushing silence
Is it Russians this time? Or China? Some outlier?
Two of Solon’s coins value my eyelids.
Alchemisland 
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