PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The origin of time had begun.

There was no sand,

no wind,

no sun.

No reason to come or be late.

No reason to love or to hate

only a passing thing.

In the morning time will gain nearer

In the Morning light will shine clearer

But there she stood in the rain,

crying and moaning in pain

not of pain that one finds in the rain

but a pain which no human can contain.

In her heart is where that sorrow remains
nobody on Earth to blame.

The rain gave her spirit when it came
lifting her soul like a crane.

But all she could do was sing.

There was no winter,
summer,
autumn

or spring.

Only the rain came to visit.

She found only herself as a critic.

So God went on to produce the Earth,

The rock,
and the stone

this mystical phantom was yet to be known.
on her own

she saw wars,...men caste into bone

Though with time she felt no longer alone
so she claimed and named the rain as her own

"My brother, My sisters we are not living nor dead

we live here only to breed our own dread.

The Time Is Of Hand!

To Make Our Great Stand!

To Show The World Our Everlasting Plan!"

So she took her great leap

into the enduring keep

of the nation of man.

Her very demand

to take her great stand
with the rain at her command.

But found she could not make her great leap

into the enduring keep

of the nation of man

The rain had become her.

Her muscles they..

simply could not expand.

Doomed to her very own ransom...

to never be known...

as the Sparkling Blue Phantom