Dawn, and lights out

Vibrations, sweet vibrations. Do you hear the tap, its resonance? Ba-Dum, Ba-Dum, Ba-Dum. Lights up, litghts down, look left, look right.

You are in the middle of the street, headlights racing across, the rainy droplets covering your hands, the ground, and the beam from the truck ahead.

Swirl your head, what do you see?

Another car comes, VROOOM, away its goes. The metal-can has swerved. More sounds come to you, the bleating horns, and the noisy, annoying, cold patter of the rain.

Why do people like rain? It's cold, musty, smells lke nothing, tastes like earth.

Rain, isn't good, it's a deceptiion, a lie—

Flick, tumble, roll. The car has hit you, you are confused, you are nothing.

Your memory has vanished, the blood drains from your body, it draaains away. You may instinctually try to stem it, hold it in your hands, with you dirt-covered fingers. But what can you do?

It's another torrent to pour.

Endless night and flows, hasn't this world has had enough rain already? Blood is another colour of that rainbow. And tragedy is the sun.