The Archives
Watching the sky
Waiting for the rain.
Knowing the torrents will come to invade
The sweet subtleness of the morning.
It always does.
Just like the pain
Which invades the very souls
Of those left behind
When a loved one is lost,
Never leaving time to heal
To recapture peace
To regain love.
Such is the nature of this cruel world
At its best.
This world where
When you have no need for love
It is abundant.
But, when you need it,
There's nothing to grasp onto
To keep you from falling.