unrain.

wallow i

in pity, self-thought

deeply ridden with a sense of demise

how time flies

without permission sometimes

years going by like

salty waves, aggravating the wounds they touch

such memories fill up a soul

when time reaches its brink

another dimension opens the same

as a world where it once breathed in

lots of things change although

somethings never do

yet why is it that when this brink is reached

I always find myself alone

I am but a shadow of the past

I am but a mist of the future

I might reach destinations or I may not

who knows what might befall my mistakes this time

yet on the verge its not raining anymore

its not soothing no more

to see myself in introspection

for although I search

answers wont come to me

in the womb of hopelessness

I die to hear a sound…

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