The darkness spoke to me.
It might do that again.
The lights flash my eyes
To wash them off lies’ stain.
Paths are okay so is the traffic jam
It always feels adventurous to flee
But reality has other advice:
Get stuck and rot or spit, ‘damn!’.
The shy sun smiling in irony
Seen being reflected on the drain
As if you can forget it as a vice
Or embrace it as kinship pain.