A rainy, aroused storm — a shade?
A daydream?
A melancholy?
An imaginary soul... or a silhouette.

Drenched in water, knowing all these tears
would hide.
Why someone like him?

Oh, his muse of his mind
breathed in the silhouette of stars.

When it smiles,
he glides.
When it comes,
he echoes.

A rainy, aroused lightning — shiny and black.
He thought: like her hair,
Heaven's shack,
for a silhouette dreamer.