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Truth Comes Dropping Slow
It rained love...only love
but the rain didn't hear
the lamentation of my leaves,
I grieved for truth.
I craved for truth as it were blood
to paint my petals red again
and heal my wounded heart in pain
that's wounded by the rain.
For every dropp of love was like
a dagger piercing me...
pushing me to death as though
life's death is just a play.
I've gone astray -
searching for the truth;
only to find my petals
slowly kissing the ground
because truth comes dropping slow.
I cried till tears became my blood
yet truth comes dropping slow.
I died and found no truth in my grave
for truth comes dropping slow.
I died and found the common truth of life:
We all crave for truth, yet all of us lie.
Truth comes dropping slow
for all of us lie.
poem
by
Jessel Jane Tevar
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