The rain... is pouring down.
And streaking past your eyelashes as you run, its wispy fingertips
brushing cold against your already cool skin
It splashes, rising up and falling, splattering its muddy stain against
your bare legs.
With each step you take, the sound of your feet pounding against the
pavement
Proclaims an inverse against your deadened heartbeat
And together, with the slap of rain pelting your back,
They make a quiet song...but you can hear nothing...
Blood starts to seep through your fingers
Its vibrantly crimson remarks dissipating in reverence of the
ever-steady rainfall
And you know: You should loosen your fists, but you can feel...
Nothing
You run, in silence and in fear.
You run, gently, through the night.









In my embrace is the sun you can no longer bear to bask in
In my kiss is the passion of life that can no longer bless your veins
with its vitality
In my heart is the energy to compensate for anything you lack
In my fists is the authority to quell your fears
In my words is the potency to elevate your spirit past where your wings
would lead you
In my body is the ability to counterpoise.

Penned by my hand on the 9th of Lleian, in the year 122 MA.