The haze rolls yet again; another rainy day, but who am I kidding, I love the melancholy.

It's a reminder of better days. A reminder of the times what we danced when nobody else wanted to.

A subtle ode to the "golden days" past, and the roar of the storm that is passing above.

I like to tell myself that this is a promise to a blooming spring, but that's a promise at beat, and if time has taught me anything, its that promises are meant to be broken.