Scavenging of Storm and Spirit
Pass upon me thus in silent rain
a frequent silver blush in dripping tears
silent to ignite, repeat, refrain
as washing pools of silent, silver years
mounted in the wells and darkest pain
a swelling of an aquifer of fears
mourning silk to lap and leave it's stain
while holding all the thunder in arrears
storm of soul and spirit thus to wane
upon the passerby's to look, endear
rivers bent on sorrow to attain
to swallow now, in haste, and hold quite near.
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