Wandering

The people out there no longer sleep

As well the lights with their lovely form

When the silence comes to gently weep

It is the slum’s choice to enjoy the storm

The rats dance above our heads

The thoughts fade to feed the ill

The river cries between the sheds

As the skin feels the burning steel

The wind blows the infinite breath

The grass moves graciously as it digs out the storm
The heads keep spinning, licking pure death

The rain rushes angry as the rats still perform

The people out there no longer sleep

The night salutes the lonely crowd

Eyes peeking widely as my shout greets the streets

To wander as well you might be allowed