Tuesday, 11 October 2011

Between The Black Of Night

In the Payne's grey hue of morn,
I wake to the sweet melody
Of raindrops on puddles and guttering;
A sweet song of light rain and silence,
A dance, serene, and nothing more.
The night before had brought me out,
Into the cool dim of the streets I know,
Walking the boundary,
Marking my place;
I meandered through side-streets and alleys,
Drifting on a shadowy wake,
Seen from just the corner of the eye,
And never seen again.
I rest, I breath, I spray my mark,
In the places you speed up;
I watch you in your Halloween black world,
Smiling, and blind,
You never see me in the places you don't look.
We pass each other by, carry on,
Never two worlds to cross,
Even though we live in the very same place,
Yet come the ashen sky, pulling forth the day,
You don't see where I lie, alone,
In the Payne's grey morn, I am gone.

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