DRY RAIN

A solemn parade,
of broken hearts.
Marching over
the gunfire lullabies.
Whispering charades
while its raining darts.
Victims of rovers,
and pirates of lies.
Rusty blades,
desperate of restart.
All these dry rains.
The sky could
no longer cry.

no rain, no flowers (poems)Where stories live. Discover now