Along an empty road I walk; I wish the rain would come. Washing away my tears of sorrow, that simply will not fall. So many times have I walked this road; it's colors, smells and escence I remember in my sleep. How I long for change! How I wish the rain would come! ...But no, the rain will not come, for it knows my wish and will not obide to it. Such retched sorrow! Must I be condemed to such fate?
I long for the weather to match my feelings. It has been so long since it has; I do not think I remember it. Sorrow weaps although not seen, from in to out, it takes control. What is so important about "life" that we must endure it all? Surely, it can not be that important or people would not make fun of it as much as they do.
midnight-mystic-dragon · Fri Feb 02, 2007 @ 01:49am · 0 Comments |