Facing the Rain.

Interpretations can be fatal
in the footsteps of an honorable dreamer,
too laden with time and sensitivity
to realize passion's rapture has come.

When rainbows drop your heart
into catastrophic war zones,
there are lands that become red memories-
feelings washed aside
brutal lullabies,
coloring empty consequence.

What I thought of you to be-
someone worth revolving around,
I only awoke each morning
for the sacrificial light of your halo.

How cycles of thought and touch
have caught my positive pictures
even when I knew nothing was possible...
I still etched our meeting, our arrival
into never-ending love shared.

The dryness has already wiped away
the flow of happiness...

Now the rain steals me,
perpetrating misery's death-
chilling me
between what I had imagined
and the demons of any
completed future.

.
8/20/2011.