Rain splashed the traffic;
a sea of braking red lights,
Evening had come and gone;
the night song was playing a concerto in E minor.
I was in thought of you,
waiting on a gust of wind,
yet nothing such was in the air
nor was it in my pen.
What reason should I have to bend a promise
but for grains of salt
and sea of braking red lights.
I was in thought of you.
Evening had come and gone.
Rain slashed the traffic
The night song was playing a concerto in E minor,
holding her breath,
never looking back,
waiting on a gust of wind,
for she had no friends to worship her.
They had come and gone like grains of salt
They pillared, powdered, and poofed