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 a 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