When the wind blows some dreams on the empty streets,
Pavements offering a bed from nightmares and promises of a sunny day.
I still stand on the shore drawing footsteps on the sand,
Leaving a trail of laughter?!
Or maybe they were tears!
I can still see through the darkness of night images of those that walked with us on the corniche,
Throwing pebbles and cursing a never coming rain,
Counting the blinking lights of the harbour before blowing farewells to the forsaken city.
They still walk towards us,
Fists challenging gods,
Blood simmering the veins, throats full of angry hymns of victory.
Was it only a night,
Or a fretful day sleep?!
Will they be walking the same road next year?