Roman Rain

When the wounded heaven
Drops the frustrating fall
Into the deepest hollow
Of thy dazed and splitting soul
I shall be there,
All moans and woes will be consoled,
Right there, so close,
And sow the finest seeds of hope.
I shall enchain
The voice of hearts
That cry for love,
And bore the ground the bitter tears.
I shall engrave
Every single beat
Soaring thru time
And heard the sky the erratic pulse.
When, tearing thee asunder,
The breathe of hurricanes does flow
Into the wretched peace
Of mind that thee and I together own,
I won’t be far,