The Sides Of Ill Advice

In a late night thunder storm,
I heard the wind kiss the rain.
Every dancing droplet died
again and again and again.
Under watchful street lamp's eye,
cuddled by the sinking haze;
two cats and a rabid dog
lie about their better days.

Sweet silence, sing your love loud;
show them all your soft escape.
Cold and damp, they look to be,
by a fire of frozen flames.
Watch them chase the irony
of the shallow games they play.
Sweetly, softly, suddenly
do the candles melt away.

Should we die on the road-side
or live long for better days?
Maybe sleep on the outside,
while inside, we lay awake.
We could call on the dark side:
push the light to where it's faint.
Or just walk through the safe side,
leaving danger in its place.