He walks the ridge where sensors scream
His boots wear thin on cracked concrete
The compass glass is spider-webbed
But catches dawn through atomic sleet
The needle shakes but holds its line
A north that maps no longer show
He counts the clicks like rosary
Each tick a mile he has to go
Needle trembles in his hand
Bridge lights blur through heavy air
Every click a measured strand
Pulling him toward somewhere
His pack holds vials and sealed letters
For settlements past the dead zone's edge
The bridge looms up through silver vapor
Its cables hung on rusted pledge
The needle shakes but holds its line
A north that maps no longer show
He counts the clicks like rosary
Each tick a mile he has to go
Needle trembles in his hand
Bridge lights blur through heavy air
Every click a measured strand
Pulling him toward somewhere
A child once fixed the cracked glass face
With tape and spit and steady breath
Said magnet knows its proper place
Even when the world drinks death
Needle trembles in his hand
Bridge lights blur through heavy air
Every click a measured strand
Pulling him toward somewhere
The counter chatters in his fingers
A static hymn he knows by heart
The bridge sways slow, the cable lingers
He maps the dark by feel and art
Needle trembles in his hand
Bridge lights blur through heavy air
Every click a measured strand
Pulling him toward somewhere
He crosses slow, the mist embracing
The compass warm against his
