Toxic Rains

It is forbidden by the author of days That I should grasp my muse She fled and splashed in the toxic rains Through mirth and murky ruins I've been there before Seen it all too long Evened up the score Over and over Always a step behind Too late, too little, too much Something of that kind It matters not So I bathe in these toxic rains Sting my skin with scrapes As I scale these sullen streets And wonder if I long to escape These crystal ruins are draining me These inept mockeries of reality