A Last Rain Poem by NikoRu Bathory

A Last Rain



I lay in this dark room,
with double blanket upon me,
just me and the rain outside.

Seeing that guitar hanging on the wall,
calling me to the past,
when he played it.

I can't see the clock,
but I know it's 8 pm,
and I also know that he doesn't dreaming, yet.

The water is falling from the roof,
and from my eyes.
The night is so cold,
as in my heart.

The dim light is finally off from my cellphone,
twenty seconds after he called,
makes my room darker, darker,
and darker.

What a perfect day to die.

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