soundless beings

Walking though a small town at night.
The dark street wet with the spring mud.
The wind is slowly blowing.
Soundless beings flow.

A smell is in the air,
A smell of wet burnt things.
The smell of destruction halted mid swing.
Soundless beings flow.

Before there was lightning,
Before there was thunder.
Now is calm.
Soundless beings flow.

A house sits in ruin.
The destruction almost complete.
Wispy memories, float like mist.
Soundless beings flow.

A man in dark dirty coveralls,
Watching the fog,
Maybe he sees, maybe not.
Soundless beings flow.

The man looks up,
His face calm.
Placing his hands on the charred piano.
He starts to play.

Soundless beings flow.