When the love of many grows cold
The end is near.
Then true love surpasses gold,
When we have befriended fear.


Love is no longer; yes, love is not.
Though it still exists
It is but a revered thought,
Only a mist amiss…a wish.


How dear the bliss we crave
When love is lost and pain embraces;
How dare we leave the distant cave
When life is harsh and filled with faces.


How sparingly the kiss we save
For a dream that seems to run infinite races.


Love once breathed but now the breath is silenced;
Stilled, to be unheard and felt nevermore,
Stifled by lust, pride and passionate violence,
Still, we crawl the Earth in search of paramour.


The wailing cries of lonely hearts echo through the night,
To be consoled only by a breeze of wind,
And enraptured by flight,
Returning empty to the heart, and chilling the soul within.


Robbing pillows of sleep,
And causing willows to weep.


We all walk with an awkward quiver;
We all talk hostile, bitter.
You may doubt but your soul will shiver,
When you learn that love has grown as cold as winter.


Forget all if you will but remember this, my dear,
When the love of many grows cold…the end is near.

The raindrop
Stands alone
Then escapes the cloud
Like a skydiving soldier on mission
Whose face is proud.
It stands alone
In its descent,
Only to embrace the ground
As if it had a hand to hold.

But the earth is dry
And land is cold.

The rain drop is simple
And cool at heart.
Its thoughts so fickle
To make the foolish smart,
Yet I sometimes wonder
Were it sentient would it ponder
The significance of a lifetime between earth and yonder
And the sentiment of finding a purpose fonder.

For we are all like raindrops solitary
With a finite life span, temporary.
Some stand alone, and some find another
To join together and become stronger.

The lonely raindrop stands alone
But every raindrop makes the planet whole.

Mother Earth awakes, smiles at thunder
And says, “Mr. Lonely Raindrop: you have a home.”