"i wish the sky would rain down roses, as they rain from off the shaken bush. why will it not?"
20
once yesterday, the sky was gloomy and the sun went into hiding as impetuously as the showers came. there was a sense of funereal loneliness that was quite chilling; strangely, the whispers of thunder provided some order to my disarrayed thoughts. the blustery day made my face dusky and cold, and i suffered heartbreak among my other woes. i contained the uncontrollable vibrations beneath my eyes, but hardly, and the corners of my lips were wrenched into a downward rainbow. but of the seven colours only one shone through - that of the darkest blue, resemblant of the saddest day i remember, a day that no amount of light can possibly drown out.
