Rain Poem by Shirow Walker

Seconds stop as water falls and plops, dribbling down a sweet soft cheek.
Then in the quiet, among the waters riot, echos travel up through forgotten history ever repeating.
And in stopped time when her lips meet mine there is a sense of lost and regained familiarity.
So silently, earnestly, my heart yearns to ache and feel the beating of the falling rain.
As it washes the sorrow of past and future death gone from me.
But as it is, deep in the depths of self conscience, wrought in past love, held out hope escapes.
And all that was good and sweet, falls to the lonely street, her gentle beating heart taken far from me.