If only the muse could see me cry in the rain
drink me a cyanide moonbeam
while I sit here in the rain
delicate as a heartbeat
i watch you
and listen
and share the last of the light
i cry
a lonely journey
here
in the rain
i cry a lonely journey
of silver embrace
of pallid remembrance
of watching from a distance
and stripping the dreams of this madman
dampened in the rain that matters little
to the heart that feels
less of the loneliness
of one that has come into a life
as I watch
listen
and cry
but no-one sees
forever
in this
that I write
for you
6 comments:
in the rain
I cry a lonely journey
of silver embrace
Those words are beautiful...
Its rain here too......a very beautiful and gentle poem......the opening lines are so deep......
Beautiful. I especially like this part:
i cry a lonely journey
of silver embrace
of pallid remembrance
of watching from a distance
dampened in the rain that matters little
to the heart that feels
less of the loneliness
of one that has come into a life
There is a limit to the empathy of the rain, to the empathy of a heart lost in the rain. Nice
love the cyanide moonbeam...very melancholic feel to this sir..if she could only see you in the rain...maybe she does..?
a mix of beauty and pain man....its hard and like minds or rain bring little in the way of comfort, having lost its wetness....
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