Friday, September 21, 2012

The Rain Song.

The rain song is a haunting melody drenched in anguish and grief, yet like a delicate flower, love blooms posing the question “where art thou searching for me” in this journey that has neither a beginning nor end. Over the city’s ruins raindrops splatter covering the sins of men and women, an infernal cesspool and paradise in one, an anonymous combination of freedom and anonymity creating the metropolitan attitude. Days and nights are slain by the incessant rains. The griefs of past times are forgotten. Hidden and possibly secret relations, bind together the apparently personal times of our inner experience. The green under wood says that the summer is over and luscious palms sway with a beautiful pain. Men, animal, birds, insects’ blossom in the dust, the decay of experience, a flash of messianic zest readily take on a life of their own. The quest is eternal, daylight and sunshine loses, as the hyped sensitivities of the sleet of grey like night takes over. In the village street the rain eats the earth, as it textually evaporates and thought images are stripped down to its semantic core in a bloody mist. A leaf of grass and a grain of sand divide lover and love with a gentle shower, a dream of a shadow buds again, and once more smells the dew and the river.

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