The rain pours forward, staring blankly toward the endless fervor
blindly fading towards the departure, tears blend seamlessly with the downpour
light flies past my face and into the rigid edges of the puddles, drumming with enthusiasm
Every drop feels like a beat, souls ramming towards the reality of the situation
The storm hangs aimlessly above the trees, every branch shakes with the harsh brush strokes of the wind.
I fade into the rain currents, it becomes a rhythmic process and mirrors my own shortcomings, nothing could truly be ideal.
So I beat on, steps going against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.