Each content in his own thoughts. A thin curtain of silence between them, And the rain drizzles down the window. They walk, round and round, One listening, the other speaking. Animated in movement and speech, As they avoid puddles on the red path. An endless, mindless cacophony.
Hours pass as quickly as minutes, And the moons face shines through the window.
They play, two different melodies, Thundering bass matched by tinkling treble. As wind dances to the strange song. They drive, windows down, Singing to obnoxiously loud music. And the sun pours out its warmth. They run, endless stretch of road, Feet flying up each hill, never ceasing.