rain clouds.

on an infinitely seamless trail of uneven ground and worn soles, the wind weaves through my hair as it whispers stories yet to be told. my feet continue in motion, although without destination in mind as the clouds fold over themselves in front of me. i breathe in time with each step, each mile, each day. it's the window in front of me that i can never actually walk through, the glass just moves with me.

they say a city lies somewhere beneath, holding its legends, its memories, and history close. they say the shadows still dance along the earth, even thought the music is gone- as if they didn't need anything to cast them except for the clouds when the rain refuses to fall. but the music never died- i can hear it. the beat that paces each step, the pulse to each breath and the melody the wind still whistles. it fades softly as most memories do, buried once again in the ruins.

terrified to find what should remain in the past, i walk on. no skeletons i haven't seen before to reunite with their lost shadows, no history that is doomed to repeat itself, no luring scent created for enticing, and no familiar tune. no, i will keep counting each mile with each tarnished breath. i have already inhaled you, i have done the dance, and i have buried you before.

stop.

the beat has changed, and i can exhale freely in time with the living.