Now that the storm has settled,
I walk back along the trail...

A mother has lost her will to survive
as Beirut danced to debris...

I dosed myself with restlessness.
Flapping into midnights...

Muddied are the creeks,
no blue reflections...

Roses in your stiff hands
melt my heart...

It's a misplaced memory, a sick passion that
seeks the highest mountains to rupture at...

Since when was tapping at your
door a guest's habit...

If I could be an arrogant wave
to wash your face off my way...

At night misery in the
form of shades...

The way you give me hard times, makes me run away...
Complicated...

Perhaps I possess elegance with
my undeclared language...

Why are all the bright
rainbows gone at night...