X

until the abandoned buildings are finally forsaken even by the homeless and the vagrants and the downtrodden and the disenfranchised,

until all the spray cans are empty and the last black sputters have dripped down my fingers,

until the hot sun above has scorched my skin and the dark underground has chilled my bones,

until the heavens are opened up for me, or hell has wrapped its fingers around my soul,

until everything makes sense, or everything is finally rendered meaningless:

Blessed be the walls in this city, the beautiful ones and ugly ones, the walls that give warmth, the walls that receive markings and spray from the artists and gangsters; blessed be the walls, until the day that they fall.