The Days When I Dream,

After the Rain

Maybe we’re just waiting for the hope,

That lingers with the fresh scent of the rain,

But it’s so hard to cope,

With the desolations of ash,

Falling in flurries,

So seamless,

Gentle,

The marking of a new day,

In barren pain.

The rain,

Clear, faint droplets,

That make a resounding splatter,

Soaking the ashen ground,

Like a serenade,

The harmony of the wind,

The whispering leaves,

And the rippling rain,

A song so pure,

So graceful,

That overpower,

The stinging pain.

It seemed so lifeless,

Hopeless,

Useless,

When there was no sound,

Amidst the smokey haze,

Just the Earth in it’s silent stance,

Like time itself was in a trance,

When the first rain,

Hit the ground,

The skies crying out,

Their sorrow,

And the uncertainty of tomorrow.

Then, so strange,

There was a calm yet sudden change,

When the clouds bellowed,

Their last thunder,

And moved on,

The illumination of the sun,

Unseen for so long,

And if you listened,

Ever so carefully,

You could hear the soft singing,

From the birds beyond.

It is the very existence of time,

Then comes the lingering lives,

The loss of death.

"It's good to strive for the best, though sometimes, you need to strive for the better." -TheHen

P.S. I know that I can use the quote font, but I prefer this one. Also, you don't have to agree, I'm just sharing 'cause why not?

If you had to choose one,

Between two,

Who would you choose?

There really is no lie,

Impossible to deny,

Why, why, why,

Does it always have to end in demise.

Neither is better,

A heart compared to a feather,

Can't I choose all?

Or must one fall?

- I am torn.

I call your name,

Because I'm a flightless bird,

I long for the days when you would hear,

The echoes,

The waiting,

Of my sorrow.

The silence spoken,

Means more than words and actions,

Our thoughts say it all.

Although we are filled with worries,

There's this presence,

That sways in the breeze,

Creeping along the unknown lands,

Calling a name,

That seems to be familar,

Yet impossible to place.

Maybe we just believe,

That we are submerged in what we perceive,

Maybe we all live in denial,

Of reality's truth.

Words would mean nothing,

If there wasn't a story behind them.

I stood in the forest,

In my solitude,

The swirling breeze,

The only sound,

When I look up,

At the towering trees,

I realize I'm so small,

Compared to the mist,

The bare trace of my silhouette,

Of my warm breath,

There is no knowing,

Beyond this trail.

When I think of home,

I think of you,

Where the skies were a beautiful blue,

Where there were never tears nor rue,

Where the crackling hearth,

Bathed it's warmth into the Earth,

Its dancing flames,

Reminding me,

Of the echoed laughter,

And the times on the porch,

With the sunlight shining,

When we sat together.