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primitive rain
♪a rhymed, mirrored octet♪
rain.
weeping.
on my head.
no umbrella
for my naked soul.
puddles rise to drown me
sandwiched ‘twixt dank earth and sky.
lest i f a l t e r, lest i f l o u n d e r,
i must find my way around her.
s i n k i n g sands i might d e f y,
though they melt around me.
but when dark clouds roll,
i’m a fella,
tho not dead,
feeling
slain.
© Copyright 2019 August 04
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
rain.
weeping.
on my head.
no umbrella
for my naked soul.
puddles rise to drown me
sandwiched ‘twixt dank earth and sky.
lest i f a l t e r, lest i f l o u n d e r,
i must find my way around her.
s i n k i n g sands i might d e f y,
though they melt around me.
but when dark clouds roll,
i’m a fella,
tho not dead,
feeling
slain.
© Copyright 2019 August 04
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
Published 5th Aug 2019
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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