I've illusion, ponder with thoughts flickr through my brain cells imagining what it would be like to have it all just as dreamed. I'm so use to having afternoon dreams and how I miss that so much. Hours passes by ridiculously slow, days go by felt like I was compose cramp in a basement cell hoping that rain would fall from the sky reaching out to me. Entering a new month of loneliness I keep my hopes high, never have I ever dismiss the possibility that rain would pass through thick brick walls splashing me with sensitivity, and water me for the rest of my life.
We shall strive this with victorious glory, the rain I miss. Sitting in my room with grieve, with the possibility of not knowing what will I venture next, what will I have to face in the upcoming events of my now, future and the after life. To God that created me, I beg you for mercy to save my soul from this miserable sadness of not ever knowing what have become of my rain. I cry in hopeless but with hope I have live.
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