Droplets Praying For The Ground

I like it when it rains.

Droplets praying for the ground:

From the bottom of my heart,

I thank you,

As rain drops fall from an endless sky.

No more second guesses,

Or subtle circumstances,

Could heal me if they tried.

But this rain won’t let up,

I know that it will never end.

The only thing that I can do,

Is hold on to the message.

       *

Droplets all pray for the ground,

But crash once they get there.

All fakeness pushed aside,

Representations of all of our hearts.

I can no longer think,

The feeling’s reserved for the ordinary.

However ordinary I might be,

The rain will still haunt me after it ends.

Clothes drip from water,

Soaked up by the skin.

All porous outcries,

Of bodies all covered in sin.

Recommended and forbidden glances,

Prove themselves as only one show.

Second-hand smoke from the dependent,

Middle-aged but youthful souls.

And I cry out to God,

My name dry.

Everything around us,

Crashing into the sky.

Only the sickest kids,

Seem to know the answers:

I know, I’m coming.

For now I’ll cease to make sense,

Of subtle-looking gestures,

And only read into action,

Driven solely by the fractures:

In my spine,

Are filling,

Spilling and swirling with guile.

All of His mercy,

Yet they betray,

And put us all on trial.

 

Author's Note

this is only a temporary title