Fallen

Week... 3?

*Hey there friends and oh mysterious readers. I deeply apologize for my lack of posting if you actually enjoy reading my works. I will hopefully get back around to this more often and perhaps edit my other work as well. For now, here are some poems I've written in this past while that I haven't posted. Hope you like them. Until next time~

Rain taps heavily

The house radiates stillness

Faint thunder echoes

'Cross my mind is one question

Will you disturb the silence?

Presence like a storm

Passion like a fire burning bright

Love like a still night

Porcelain-like trust

Steel-like walls forced to defend

Breaks are everywhere

I never really knew how much I loved the rain until the sound of drops hitting the pavement calmed my storms.

How this precipitation assisted my concentration while I tried the appease the expectations, until I realized that I am impatient.

I never really knew how much I loved the rain until I walked through it, feeling my stress and worries being cleared away and my clarity polished.

I remember how I danced with you and thrust my palms up to the sky, the cool breeze bringing us closer for warmth.

I never really realized how much emotion could be dragged out by the rain until I watched reflections blur in the streets and drops race each other down to the bottom of my windowsill.

It had grown colder and the rain was no longer suitable to dance in, for pneumonia would be inevitable.

No longer do I trudge through the rain, journeying to you or to the us that once was.

I never really knew how much I hated the rain until it made me think of you.

What immortal hand or eye dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

Such hands could create such innocence to watch it burn in purposeful forest fires;

Such a maelstrom of emotions to endure in observing one's magnum opus be ripped to shreds by their very hand.

What pious being manipulates the mirror reflection so that the tiger may reflect the lamb?

What acute scrutiny goes into the creation of the talons to rip the flesh, the striped coat to meld and be hidden;

What unimpeachable dependency goes into the creation of the bleached white fleece for all to see?

How could one such originator create an odious match for a divine being?

The tiger burns from unknown origin as it stalks through the forests, searching from insatiable thirst;

The lamb shrieks in search of its lost nirvana and the flames that lick around its feet.

Shall such hands that create cherubic works turn a blind immortal eye to creating an infernal beast?