Woven Night's Secrets

In the grand theater of the sky, beneath the charcoal blanket starry-eyed, I tumble with an existential plummet—an acrobat of aqueous descent.

I often find myself ponderous: Why the rush to puddle?
Join me in contemplative depth.

The humans scurry below, umbrellas like armored castles in a medieval rain-soaked melange. Yet their hurried steps never cease, a dance choreographed by nature's symphony, but they waltz off-beat.
I glide off the chryseses balcony, pondering - am I an agent of chaos or merely their haircut gone awry?

Was it menial fate to join the gutter or a choice to make a river anew? Soon they'll learn of me, a legend in little man's journeys: Cycle Complete.

So here I dangle, caught in an orchestra of winds and droplets woven into fate's reluctant kiss. Beware the night.