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Raining
All good things must come to the eventuality of an end.
Again its raining,
its always seems to be raining.
The disappearance of the sun.
Where has it gone?
In the darkness hides the light.
Taking a peek behind the curtain of grey clouds.
Putting an end to another shroud.
A temporary loss is temporarily found.
With it I hear the sounds of rain drops hit the ground going splat, splat.
A constant impact.
All good things must come to the eventuality of an end.
Again its raining.
Its always seems to be raining
poem
by
Ace Of Black Hearts
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