Water drops slowly on my face. Drop, Drop, Drop.
More and more, wetting me, it does not stop.
I wipe the water from my wet face,
So cool and moist in this hot, dry place.
My head bows, my eyes close as time stands still,
Only the water continues to move down my body as if down a hill.
Does it cleanse? Does it wash and purify?
I raise my head and look at dark skies.
Soon the water is joined by my welling tears,
I cannot hold back the pain that is caused by my fears.
The rain, it hides my tears with every drop that runs down my face,
But it cannot hide from my tongue, oh the bitter and salty taste.
The pain pulls at me, threatening to forcefully tear me apart,
But they say time heals all wounds, even a broken heart.
I don’t believe that saying can possibly be true,
Time just makes the pain something you get used to.
There was a flame once that burned deep inside,
But the pain came like rain, a huge tide,
Vanquishing the flame to but an ember,
As I sit outside on a rainy day in September.