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Fusillade of Tears
High up in the heavens above
Where all stories are penned in love
A miracle happens in purity
A drop o’ rain is molded out of ethereal clarity
Clouds gather around to protect
Their baby drop delicate to the slightest defect
Out of its comfort and unto the unknown
Where into darkness it can be thrown
One day the drop does escape
Love for its parents was all but fake
The clouds are left reeling
With pain, grief scorching their feeling
The hurtling baby drop finally sees doom
Too late to realize wrong was its swoon
It falls on burning sand and dies
Helpless clouds can do nothing
But watch the suffering and cry…
