Is it not curious when one is crying?
You come to a point where you think it has ended,
“Surely all my tears are dry by now” you think
You promise yourself not to cry anymore,
A sorrowful promise since it is often forgotten
Then along comes a small insignificant trinket triggering a buried tear
As those dead memories come alive
You curse, silently asking the promise for forgiveness.
The sour water begins to flow uncontrollably down your plain face
Eventually those sour pelts of water stop,
Like a faucet they were turned off.
Silently, the thunder approaches from outside
Filling your empty dreams
Shouting everything you wish your dry throat could.
As the rain begins to pour down
You sit motionless, holding your breath
Watching as God cries in your place,
As he attempts to wash away your sorrow with his own.
You come to a point where you think it has ended,
“Surely all my tears are dry by now” you think
You promise yourself not to cry anymore,
A sorrowful promise since it is often forgotten
Then along comes a small insignificant trinket triggering a buried tear
As those dead memories come alive
You curse, silently asking the promise for forgiveness.
The sour water begins to flow uncontrollably down your plain face
Eventually those sour pelts of water stop,
Like a faucet they were turned off.
Silently, the thunder approaches from outside
Filling your empty dreams
Shouting everything you wish your dry throat could.
As the rain begins to pour down
You sit motionless, holding your breath
Watching as God cries in your place,
As he attempts to wash away your sorrow with his own.
melda~
