maia

Softly pitter-pattering on the ground

Just enough to wet my weary feet

But not enough to bring me sweet release

I stand here, loathing the rain's gentle touch

Longing for the deluge, the storm's fierce rush

But it stays just out of reach, a teasing game

Leaving me to suffer with its gentle shame

Oh, how I yearn for the cleansing flood

To wash away my sorrows, my pain, my mud

But the rain falls softly, a cruel reminder

That my troubles linger, a weight that never withers."

Overflowing and unending, they now take their hold

Scattered by your touch, and engulfed within your embrace

You have taken it all, my heart and every trace."