pitter patter
a slight drizzle
of rain taps
quietly outside

the rhythm
of a infinite cycle
of life

the desolate terrain
echoes the 12am wind
blowing like dust

the wind is like thread
weaving love's lust
amongst the trees

the clouds are cloth
embedded symphonies
languages threaded within

torrents of rain
like empty bullets
inflict pain unceasing

lightning strikes
the earth opens
like the gates of heaven

heaven is amongst my eyes
i must be blinded
cries of lost souls

inaudible by the tapping of rain.

(b.d.s.)