Street lights flicker as the ground gives in;
Tired feet lay down their eyes as discouraged hope drowns in time.
The night sky soaks up the bitter thoughts and
the red hydrants crinkle in rust, gasping for a fire.
Brightness blinds their only way to the surface,
ignorance finds its home burnt down by the skylight's touch,
and as the red hydrant loses its saturation, the sun arrives early in good intention.
Not only are memories burnt black,
but their influence spills a questionable aroma that fills the sky with insoluble honesty
as it slowly falls onto the ground, and the street lights turn off,
as if they never wanted to be on.