It will rain and it will rain ♥

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The air simmers, blisters. Induced hallucinations.

The cracked open mouth of wounded earth,

Seeped with blood red and covered with rust.

Centuries and eons of memories clouded by dust.

 

The fragile lines were breached once long ago,

The tempest had once rushed into my shore.

It’s been long and time has swept away the resort

The floods and waves of tide haunted me to drown.

 

Then the sea is just a embittered memory,

And it was a heap of sand I’d leapt into. Not death.

See, the passion had been sung well to drone.

To arise and laugh back, when mirages mock.

 

It’s been long I’ve lived scared to scraps and bolts.

It, the post traumatic stress disorder in me craving blood.

But I’m ready to go all out again, for surfing in the sea of love.

And she has to come out too, the madwoman locked in my head…

 

The fighter in me. The rebel. The poet. The lover.

The unchained philosopher, her storm unleashed.

Night has finally settled bets with daylight

There right there, fate’s let my midnight sun dawn.

 

Now again the tempest blows ashore, from the east.

The distant roars of the hungry cranky clouds resound

After flashes of desire reflecting his heart and mine.

After a long time I know, it will rain and it will rain.

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The Healer. The Seer.

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You were like October’s rain, rinsing away the ravages of Juno’s mayhem.
The last embers of a hissing fire, was extinguished with your shower.
With every step you took toward me, you made the crickets in the thicket fade away.
The something that used to corrode my insides, I was finally ready to give up.

Exhausted and lost, gasping for water, I had collapsed.
Hallucinating, probably, dazed I was, fatally close to the point of incinerating myself.
Though not a waterbearer, you shot an arrow from your quiver,
Through the rocks under my feet.

At your grace, upon your mercy, it was spring in mid October,
There sprang a stream, bubbling and splashing, abundant in plentitude.
But I did not lean down to quench my thirst;
Since there was Old Narcissus’ sad tale to note.

Then, passing away, seeing another in distress, you galloped away.
To quench someone else’s lips, to heal another set of broken wings.
You didn’t even turn back once, to see your magic peeling off undone…
That I am left alone again, left to go back to my October in mayhem.