The streetlights march like soldiers
Berets raised to an empty cause
A forgotten dictator;
He left like the sun

The clouds sit on balconies
Listening to the eulogy
Read by the soft spoken wind;
It whispers unspoken wishes

The lowlight like limelight
Against a backdrop in decay
The paint peeling;
The ceiling damp with rain

I sit and drink the air above me
And so the ground beneath tells me
In hushed breaths:
"The shadows will soon belong"