Experience Tumblr like never before
White, as if a shroud for one's dead,
Came the rain to cover the twisted
Smile with which the city laid.
The salt-wet cloud pressed down
Apologetically down on the wails
To muffle down the alleys where
Fear smelt sharper than the guilty
Lust for life.
The smoke rose up and died
In the arms of the rain
And the bruised earth cooled itself
Down to sleep on the sidewalk
Tattered from toes to head
And a loaf of wet, burned bread
Fed the hunger in their
Grim, kerosene-masked eyes.
There was a road from living,
So they said, and it was hope
That shone on the edge of
The blade. Prayers curled up
In its handle like a dirty scroll
Pushed up in a crypt, to hold onto
And to give up to the fire when
Rain shattered all.
- pollosky-in-blue