Pouring rain down upon us Crying rivers of nothingness 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