Long awaits the dream,
Of what could cost the beauty, the life,
Drowned in the weight of endless what ifs.
What if I fall?
But the sky, it whispered—
Darling, what if you flew?

A tremor through my soul,
A repent that’s born of silence—
I am nothing but a rainfall,
Bound to fall,
Shaken by the wind's cruel caress,
Drowned in my own desolation,
Yet somehow still alive in this ache,
Like rain that clings to the earth,
But never stays.