Dirt-choked runnels scramble down dark asphalt
Supported by the torrent spraying from gray skies
Assailing mortal frames with silvered spears
Weighing down shirts and souls
With the burden of the clouds.
Against shadow-soaked streams I tread
Between somber, looming buildings, empty windows staring
Creaking with glee at my frantic cries into cacophany
Running past, still forever near them
Welcoming me a thousand times, with a new facade.
As sun dies beyond the canopy of clouds
And a rosy flicker paints the flooded streets
I see her, with umbrella's shielding, standing
Eyes colder than the storm, untouched by heaven's tears
I watch her fade into the distance
As I collapse with a smile.
Dismissing Calls for Civility as Privilege
11 hours ago