The sprigs of a dying dawn shadows the wind
Rain strokes the steam on asphalt.
Heaviness deepens the searing of coldness
Each step bore impressions of the day
...
I am in a place that I do not stand here or there.
I am sitting on a rock watching it go by
wanting to follow the breeze
but it twists and turns so much
...
Mere existence travels to me
dreams and thoughts engulfs my heart
I starving for her
The ghost....she always was
...