The wetness if the rain is only the tears of many angels mourning for lost souls overcome by vengeance within their own hearts.
Melodies undress my cadence through tearing away layers of soot built up over a tormented life filled with lies.
Throttled by a rain cloud, a storm emerges from my inner walls of peril.
The further I walk away from you, the greater my fire builds, and the stronger my will becomes.
For I shall not perish by you sharp tongue.
I shall subdue all ethics unholy, and burn you towers of strength to the ground.
This is no casual storm of the heart.
However, with each year falling to the earth, man shall be vanquished by the tides which raise him through flaming cavity of shattered truths.
© Copyright, Kiki Stamatiou, 2016