Old Lanes

Driving down old lanes slowly Catching blinks of a world I once found rainy Who now dons the sun's flame. I never thought of myself as lucky. Dreams of petricore stain me wholly Haunting me with their hollow perfume While I drive down old lanes slowly. And it seems nothing can go pleasantly As even the smallest clouds lame. No, I never thought of myself as lucky. So too, you and I are only imaginary. A love in a twisted world too hopeless to merit a name. Driving down old lanes slowly I don't think of myself as lucky.