Samia's second one

DOWNPOUR

Light
presumes
it travels
faster
than anything,

but it's
wrong;


no matter how fast
it is, darkness
always gets there
first,
waiting

Uncertain pace of breath,
a heavy stone, hovering -
over a cobweb.
My exhausted walk
sinking every second step,
cold feet,
bemused head.

Only: some contain it within,
get used to the repetition
of things,
unhurriedly
eroding

Empty.
Cold.
No wings.