God cried today. Shed cloud fulls of tears, pure as he is, but still embodying the overpowering aura of suffering. Droplets pouring off his eyelashes and flooding the streets and civilians below, drenching them in his own despair, ruining their shoes and ruining their moods. drowning the sun in his sobs, because if he was to be heartbroken, why shouldn't he let the world feel it too? So he cried and he cried and he cried and everyone felt it. His tears marking the skin of all unlucky enough to be trapped under his eyelids, running every once warm vein cold with the depth of the maker's misery. God cried today, ran his tears through all the city's streets, destroyed the soles of the pitied souls, and wreaked havoc on any sunshine in sight, because if even God could not be granted peace and passion, who is to say he would let anyone else?
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he/him/you
Poetry[completed] some half assed thoughts i've had about unrequited love and unnecessary hope shattering revelations
