Pouring rain down upon us
Crying rivers of nothingess
Drowning in a sea of regrets and torture
Observing the shadows of the spotlight

So golden and bright
Hearing the chants of the silent fields
Admiration from afar
Acknowledge thy presence
A man can be just a form
Reality in inception
Rainstorm of affection
As desire is expelled
Within the ranks of agony
And through the graves of fallen messiahs
A pessimist's credo
Shall redeem his flesh
Desolation is our call

Standing under the streetlights
In the corner of both past and future
Counting nails from a box
Impatience tearing his face apart
The clocking anxiety which ceased to stop
Impinging sounds cut through the roaring skies
The trumpets of the numbing void
Will break through the walls of nothingness

Gazing under the hour's spell
At the soundless storms of decay
On hands and knees
Feeling the concrete spines
The breathing mirrors
Reminding what people looked like
But the look is immersive
As there can be just one
It's not a clone but the man observed
Calm returns, the pounding beating chest
Let him wash away the other's pain