Rain hits the ground in a flurry of anger,
The storm isn't quiet, not for a soul.
Clashing onto the dense pavement,
Flickering the night sky.
Reveling in a mass of hypocrisy,
One might think that all is done or never will be.
Together we sing for the morning,
Or we don't sing at all, then there is a goodbye.
Welcoming those to the end,
We see beyond the darkest shroud.
Sitting in the abyss with such bliss,
All we ever wanted was to sit in the light.
Enveloping all that is chaos,
All that is balance.
To never again obtain a blood soaked chalice,
Crimson waves flooded the ground beneath us and gave them such a freight.
Again and again we hope,
Nothing more than a faceless god.
Demanding and prosecuting us all,
Eternal damnation as the clouds rain the blood of our tears.
Reaching for the sky with hopeless arms,
Souls wither away.
The rain washes us all down the dirty, and diseased, streets,
Igniting a mass hysteria while others set their affairs.
Crying out in absolute anguish,
I sit idly by as my body washes away.
Down the rabbit hole I go, repeating over and over,
The rain has to end some time.
