Wandering paths ask for a dying cloud-drought
One black with the heart of darkness, devout.
A blooming earthly sunrise follows a fountain
and walks with her vices, talking to a mountain
Hope of finding you there, with bitter mnemonic
standing restless, alone in uncommon bucolic.
She proceeds to see with a call for rain
as fog blankets us, sunlight slowly wanes.
Lost in haze, could of sworn water fell genuine,
closing eyes swallow you whole, the medicine.