Rain Through My Fingers


Thy soul shall find itself alone

As if it was the dying hour

Turned back upon the past

Misty night so dimly afar

The happiest day, the happiest hour

But they have vanished long

Alas; hush my soul – let them pass

All things lovely – are they not

Far away – far away

Much about a broken heart

All about unhappy things

And the sly, mysterious star

There the gorgeous clouds darken

Up the sky the color of sorrow

Rustling everlastingly

There the moon doth shine

With unsteady light

What has night to do with sleep

So lovely was the loneliness

I held in my hand

Like moonlight, like lightning from the sky

My hope, my dreams

Some particles of sand

No – they went

Gloriously away – like

Rain through my fingers

Posted by

Not much to tell, antisocial, bipolar, loner, poet. That's me in 4 word's.

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