home | archives | bio | stories | poetry | links | guestbook | message board
previous | poetry index | next

the Rain


The rain falls heavily outside my windowsill,
mimicking my life.

Ice cold droplets freezing their surroundings and
destroying the living beauty which mother nature
worked so long to create.

Its wetness dampens the world to the core;
drowning life; washing away the foundations of
truth, honesty, friendship, honor, love...

Those malicious clouds which created it darken
the sky,
preventing light to enter,
preventing life to leave.
Darkening the sky until the only survivors
are Death, Desolation, and Despair.

The rain is everywhere.
It is more ancient than the mountains
and shall remain long after the mountains are
but memories.

In another time and place,
a valiant knight on a powerful steed,
resplendent in his brilliant armor, watches as
the evil clouds roll in.

He has no defense.

The rain falls in torrents, chilling the mount,
riveting the earth, and dampening the spirit of the knight.

And with time; the mount grows sickened and
weak; the earth erodes and gives way; and
the knight can fight no more -
his way is lost,
his armor is tarnished,
and his honor is forfeit.

There is no place to hide;
the rain will always find us.
And no matter what we say or do,
the storm can only grow more violent.

There is no escape...
There is no escape...

Lord have mercy on our souls.


previous | poetry index | next
home | archives | bio | stories | poetry | links
| guestbook | message board

the Rain, by Paul Cales, © 1986