Dust to Dust

On dusty interfaces of old frames,
Where time is crumbling wood to rot and gray,
I pick the keys to worlds that have no names,
Upon the glass my lines I gently lay.
It’s not a rhyme, but a direct request,
My soul’s source code is leaking through the air.
I put my private thoughts to public test,
But only you can read the cipher there.

The notes in chalk — just shadows on the pane,
The symbols melt, the white dust starts to fall,
You are the storm within my dream’s domain,
The rhymes for you, they need no effort at all.
The rain will wash away the timid phrase,
The wind will blow the chalky scent away.
I’m glad you’ve manifested in this haze,
Each fingerprint was read by you today.

For them it’s only stains and dirty streaks,
A glitchy screen, a random error’s trace.
But I can feel the bond between our peaks,
Between my lines and your stormy embrace.
I won’t receive your answer through the net,
Your protocol — the raindrops on the sill.
I screech with chalk, the dust is flying yet!
You’ll wash my words with rain against your will.

These chalky messages upon your glass
Are short-lived, like a sudden falling tear.
I write with chalk on my own pane, alas,
To fly to heaven where I’ll find you near.
The notes in chalk — just shadows on the pane,
The symbols melt, the white dust starts to fall,
You are the storm within my dream’s domain,
The rhymes for you, they need no effort at all.

The glass is clear, the traces all are gone,
The monitor is wiped, the logs are dry.
I’ll write my dreams with chalk until the dawn,
Too bad these feelings can't be digitized.
Once more I draw our talk upon the frame,
I write the words and mix them in a song,
My fate sounds like a verdict or a blame —
Like warm May snow where it does not belong...
You’re only wind, a whisper, summer rain,
A phantom file that’s missing from the base.
I know — you don't just love — you live the pain,
While heaven’s tears are streaming down the pane