Waiting for you

I slid my hands quickly into,                        
the black moncler jacket                      
zipped it up,          
as to insulate myself                      
against the chilling cold          
putting on the hood,                    
I reeled down the stairs.                               
             
I stepped out of the                    
electrifying icy iron gate.              
While i was talking         
to my mother,                        
I'd see the smoke coming out                      
as i mumbled over the call,                      
It seemed that                      
I was smoking a cigar.                      
                       
Rubbing my numbed hands together,                      
I walked down,                      
the narrow desolated road                      
of the civil lines,                        
the dim steet lights flickered,                      
I felt being haunted                      
by the following shadows.                      
While Passing by,                      
the dilapidated house of Smiths,                      
I scribbled Becks                
with my frozen finger                     
on the frosted glass                      
of the car parked,                      
outside their rusted pale gate.                      
                        
                       
Finally speeding on                      
the lonely lane,                      
I reached the twinkling terminal.                      
Sat on the siberian slab                      
outside the metro station                        
(waiting for you to come)                      
The flames of excitement ran down my spine                      
While the heavy mist                         
smothered my visiblity.