• Praying for The Rain

    Scattered pages lay all around
    and words reflect within my eyes.
    In these walls without a sound
    exists my sanctuary of lies.

    Connected by mere threads
    to the world that exists outside.
    That stream of thoughts has come to tread
    upon me like a tide.

    The words pass through my eyes
    and as if they were a filter to my soul
    my eyes become covered with dyes,
    unable to fulfill their role.

    I hold my pillow in the night
    and the days pass one by one.
    I lift my face to feel the light
    but the warmth it gives is gone.

    A storm arrives like a dark knight
    and the silence is slashed apart.
    The threads are broken by a piercing light
    that strikes all the way to my heart.

    The walls shake as thunder crashes
    and the lies all seem to scatter
    as if they might be burnt to ashes,
    as if they don't even matter.

    The pitter patter of the rain
    is like an alarm that echoes through
    my heart as it grows sane.
    The false worlds, false words... adieu.

    I open a window to the sky
    and it feels like my heart too is open
    as everything is washed away,
    as everything is unbroken.

    The sky is flooded with radiant tears
    that even gods could not contain.
    And I realize as my eyes clear,
    I have always been praying for the rain.