We spent our time watching,

Watching the threat.

We sat across the expanse waiting,

Vying for an upper hand.

And our watching became worship,

Worship of the threat,

Our attention rapt,

Till it became some backwards rapture.

Only once our vision was bleached by the sun,

Did the spell break,

And we were free to walk away,

And no threat followed,

But crumbled instead.