The origin of the drumming night remains dark.
The eyes get driven by the drums,
and underneath everything,
the brightness persists in tricking the vision, exposing it's white waves that shows nothing.
That shows nothing but the sound without an origin,
the movement of animals throughout earth,
howling, perceiving the world's flow.
The world shakes.
In the curbs,
between post lights,
the leafs ghostly moves
hidden inside the modernised smoke,
until the end.