"Anguish."

[Ris Yerg]

A city soaked all night
In a tedious cold rain.
Morning crawls inside
Like an endlessly long,
Rough, gray serpent.
Spreads, it pushes its
Shapeless noddle along
The deserted streets
In the heart of the city.
With innumerable thousand
Of forked sticky tongues
It liked the blind windows.
And quited down.
Pressed itself to the ground.

Gray morning.
Tedious rain.
Anguish.