Was it the rain

November 7, 2013 § Leave a comment

A long downpour has gone by

from a hundred and six years delay

Leaving naught behind

Nothing but ash and bones

Buzzing in his ears


As the windows draws open,

and the dripping meets the wood

a pure scent is on go —

A feeling nothing can’t be undone

Still no time would heal the wounds


On a thin garment on road

Unsure strides

Pretending heart and soul

Was is the rain…

to wipe it whole

and leave no marks

to clean his heart

and cleanse his soul


After the rainfall

all that’s left

is silence whole

and it kills from inside

whispering his death

in the cushion

in his bed

all that’s left…


Sun reflects in the water driblets

the memories seems to slowly fade


The irony presences the laughter

no water could really wash his face


The billionth voice heard

from such a long time

ages of unborn…

“Feed me with your uncaring

Spread me through your plague”


Gravity float away

as if the real simply peel

his subtle den

Would’ve match his inner pain

Imploding the huge asylum of shades


When he set his chains

the shackles had his name

melted down

Through the dirt of his mind

Blazed red his fate


Was it the rain

That washed away

His whole face


Has the rest bounded, he is only flesh




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