You rest the broadsword on the guardrail cold
Salt wind lifts the hair behind your ear
Rust blooms orange where the steel was folded
Gulls cry counterpoint to engines near
The hymnal hum stays half-remembered here
Salt on the blade sings hymns you knew
The overpass hums psalms half-true
Low alto breath in minor key
Your armor weighs less than it used to be
The tide returns what steel cannot undo
Rebar ribs show through the concrete skin
You trace the edge where salt has kissed the steel
No trumpet calls no banner flying in
Just fog and gulls and wheels that grind and heal
The liturgy of rust becomes your creed
Salt on the blade sings hymns you knew
The overpass hums psalms half-true
Low alto breath in minor key
Your armor weighs less than it used to be
The tide returns what steel cannot undo
The broadsword rests its tip on salted gray
You count the beads of rust like prayer knots tied
No choir loft no organ left to play
Just wind through girders where the harmonics hide
The psalter pages blown by coastal tide
Fog rolls in on cathedral pillars
Each breath a plainsong you no longer sing
The sword drinks light like holy water
Your hands remember what the years couldn't bring
The offertory is salt on everything
Headlights paint the cables gold then fade
The metal catches fire in your palm
No dragon here no kingdom left to save
Just coast road stretching past the final psalm
The recessional plays on tapered frame
Salt on the blade sings hymns you knew
The overpass hums psalms half-true
Low alto breath in minor key
Your armor weighs less than it used to be
The
