A droplet fell upon the flat
Crashed upon the past that was the pan
Descended on the frightened sand
And wiped, as with a hand, the primal year
Washed away that last, came as the heavens' fated fast and fatal tear

The droplet fell as life would fall
The rain disclosing all their final end
The wind or leaves the droplets' bent
In transience prevent the final crush
Wetly are appalled, are stalled withal by dauntless wall; the final
touch

The flashes roll within the cave
Formed by reluctant rain and thirsty earth
The burgeons, now, are giving birth
It seems they find their mirth within the fall
And then the rain forgave, perhaps in spite it cursed their name,
incensed with gall

The droplets in their hell, intense
And burning transience become consumed;
To fall within verdure, entombed
To air to be resumed when soil numbs
And on their journey hence, bringing repentant innocence of petal crumbs

No longer now exude perfume --
Contribute to the gloom that paid you sap
And fall yourself upon the flat
As petals of the past, thusly morphosed
And could you but assume how that your waiting, gaping tombs are now
your own



Penned by my hand on the 13th of Valnuary, in the year 363 AF.