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Tell the truth now – you’ve seen it

Only rain, the end (the end of all of us)

You’ve been touching on this, dry idea, alone

Then tell me of the rain, if that’s what it is – a jumbled crunch of too, too much

And face that stuck to face

And empty space that stuck to memory

And should it stick to avalanche, you’d have to back away

You have to have a word or two to say

There can’t be nothing there, behind that hand, behind that gun, that trembles on that trigger

And believes that eyes require force to see

So tell me

Nothing but rain

Until it keeps on falling, doesn’t stop

Until it’s the end of the world, and we are nothing we’d imagined we would be

Better never to begin?

Blood is the stuff of hearts, we hear

And you could take an honest glance

Surging running feelings flowing, rivers and rivers inside

You know they risk an odyssey to look you in the eyes

That’s why you hide your hungry chasms under bangs and pushed-down brows,

Painted lines that bid the angels pass on by

Better the world would dry up right now, or be hit with another meteor

At least let the aliens who come after say of us to one another, that this was a world that burned like a star in the night before going out

(Instead of it being a drowned mess that hides the cause and the demise and the hope and the rest in a sea rising into mountains and valleys that give and don’t care if they ever were)

Tell me of the rain

And of the loudness of the quietude

Tell me of the anything that drives the hand that shakes the world

Even if it’s shaking in your pocket, with no gun

I couldn’t tell you who you are and what you’re for

Though I bet you’d give it all to never have to wonder more

I haven’t got the reason why, nor any names to blame

I can only ride from open eyes again to pouring pain

So shine or rain, I’ll believe in you until the sea becomes your bridge

Or shackles turn to mermaid fins and all the world can start again

And all the world can start again again

Don’t say it’s only rain this time, just promise that you’ll try

And though the covenants were broken, maybe we can staunch that tide

Maybe asking is enough to bring the sign

Streaking colors speaking futures through the sky

For who are we to never have an odyssey?