right.

rain pouring the streets,
filtered and strained,
sad from anger.

drenched in an 80's neon light,
you know what you can be,
sitting down only watching,
merely forever is yet for another time,
and another place.

how the sound of this could be,
if you can only hear it,
resonating.
once but to all shall belong.
tilted without air,
without wisdom,
not wanting what you hear can only be,
what you see.

the end awaits not sleeping,
only for its own and redeeming.

how long has it been since you felt something.