He rained on me.
Emotions I didn't know I still have and can still give.
He rained on my parade;
Of thoughts of devotion and charade.
He rained on me warmth and depth.
Of rainbows and perplexities.
Rained on me, in cosmic, in gradual..
That love's cynic and yet, hopeful..
Gets you excited and weak..
Armor off, shoulders bleak,
This goddess is tired as we speak.
Maybe love is just not to ablaze me..
Maybe it's just here to rain on me.
I am weary, love.
Fight for me.
Weary
🔥
HeraoftheUniverse
YOU ARE READING
When She Speaks
PoetryHer gift is being a reverberating stereo even when in silence. So much more When She Speaks. "I can only remember it when I have felt it. And only does it remain, if I have written it in the pages of my thinking. I mark my memories in pages of my po...
