Acid Rain

We are but drops of mourning rain,
In transit twixt the cloud and drain.

We gather in amorphous mass,
Untill we're called down from the past.

The fall into separation
Is nought but hallucination.

From one we came, to one we go.
We rush toward the ground below.

Upon return, we meet our end.
Then rise, that we might fall again.

Posted Jul 31, 2012, 12:00 AM UTC

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