I live in an earthly purgatory

But tonight I smelled rain amongst the brimstone

I inhaled the scent of a coming cleansing

Of liquid purity flooding down upon the fire


I reside in the depths of perdition

But this night I felt the cool scent of redemption on my skin

I touched the smell of a near future

Of a prospect that dowses the past


I exist in a state of limbo

But in the dark I heard the patter of rain drops

I listened to the sound of a deafening peace

Of a ceasefire in the form of water


I belong to my own torments

But now I see crystals shattering down from heaven

I watched fall a shower of watery clarity

Of a moment not far from this night.

This poem is about: 



You're more than welcome The-White-Knight. I'm really happy to know there are fellow pluviophiles out there who can relate to that feeling.

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