It's raining.
Lashing down upon the shutters
As if trying to force its way
Into my sheltered life.
What fury with which it patters
And rattles through the day,
Each drop like a liquid knife.
It's raining.
Obscuring the morning sun
Quenching, yet drowning
So divine and so gory.
Love and Hate become one
A violence so serene,
Entwining with the morning glory.
It's raining.
I put out my hand
Feel ecstasy in every sting
Both shackled and carefree.
A Candle or a firebrand?
Both and yet nothing,
A paradox overpowering me.
It's raining.
I step into the hail
Of liquid bullet kisses
Wounding my face.
My vision starts to fail
And I know that this is
Life and Death in one embrace.
It's raining.
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