The rain is yours to praise
as it descends upon your feet
For it washes away the spider's web
that has since threaded throughout the streets
And In your last breath
when the sky has become a meriage
through the water
Remember the first drop
when it was young
And the storm seemed that it would stop,
And the clouds were almost always leaving,
But the sun you could never see strait
and its then you should have known,
that the very fuel that kept you going
was never yours to have,
Or kiss,
Or even see.
So remember the rain
and praise its abilty
finding comfort within saddness,
For its the only thing pure that will ever touch your lips
For the wind you can not capture,
The thunder you can not tame
And the love from another human
Soon depletes
So it can rejuvenate again...
The fool who comes next,
he reflects on the stars in her eyes,
instead of how they cuddle
histories sorrow
This poem
is for an old love
for the burden you swore too heavy
but my body proved that for a moment
I could keep you steady
It's for our youth when we said life's pleasures
with age
would come with ease
but now countries apart
we both realize
this could never be...
I still feel the rain,
But no need there is to cry
the true burden of every death
is heaped upon the shoulders of the sky,
And death will never run out
that is why it rains
And that is why we'll never see a drought
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem