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Will you drift with me to that faraway place where reality seems to be unreal? If i asked would you have stayed to please me, as the rain tries to please its earth? And if i were death, would life be a sacrifice to be lain at my feet? or is it asking too much to give yourself when i myself cannot give?


Raindrops fall from the rooftop into the open arms of the grass seeping into the heat of the earth drenching it with coolness. And each passing wind carries a whisper of promise that something will be better after the sky’s grieving. A breaking of my soul upon the twilight of my darkest hour and the mild shadow of yourself enters my dream, i wonder. are you the promise that comes after the crying… Read More