Lightning strikes somewhere,
always does
strike
but chance, that long awaited anticipation,
always destructs. Darkness, 
on the other hand, lays its weary head 
across continents bracing for the worst.
Will we look up and see the drift
or hang helplessly and oblivious?
There are things to do
like nothingness. 
Just to know the silence, 
the sound of time passing by.

line by line
i move through day and night
in foreign tongue
the suggestion of,
the possibility,
the inevitable outcome.

flashing in time
with the past,
the unexpected
resurrected.

with the longing
of endless nights
and lost days in your arms,
future past,
imperfect,
imperative and 
present tense.

rescue us from transparency
and thin disguise
wandering aimlessly,
unavoidably exposed.