The rain has a lover.
Sick with passion and tired of words,
She gave him one last dance,
His eyes dancing below her.
She heard him whisper, “Don’t cry; rise up.”
Her tears were the stains that gave him his drug,
Made him her love,
Filled up his cup.
Which wasn’t empty; inside was his cure.
No more pain to endure.
He stole his own temple and burned down the walls.
Five years ago now, and yet she still falls.
Memories of the first time they met,
The trembling of the voice that paid off her debt.
For the first time she wasn’t a fool,
For once she felt beautiful.
Now she dances alone, looks to the sky.
And remembers the eyes that no longer cry.
Her fears never tamed,
Her tears in his name.
Her heart beats without fame.
Forever his eyes will rest above her.
The rain had a lover.