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The Rain

11 Apr

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The rain, it comes wildly now,
lashing down across my eyes,
that of this sky, I cannot seek;
the rain has no tender mercies,
forcing breath thru’ wetted lips,
that I breathe, but cannot speak;
yet the rain, it washes my tongue,
that I may guard my future words,
as they may stain in passing time;
the rain, it bears no malevolence,
merely falling, as it is its nature,
yet, I bear it ill will for its crime.

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Posted by on April 11, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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