Before the Rain

Before the rain, the world is green
and not a soul is to be seen.
This peaceful day, this tranquil hour
is not disturbed before the shower
of crystal tears and scattered swirls
of tiny, perfect milky pearls –
Instead, a filmy silk of jade
upon the sky is slowly laid
and spread across the saddened day
until it laps the dreams that lay
among the twinkling stars abright
that’re hushed by rain’s green holy light –
Before the rain, the world is green
and not a soul is to be seen.

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doubted reality

No matter how quickly she paced her selves, she always lead the way, strolling beyond her speed. There really wasn’t any doubt about it. In all honesty, where did the truth go? It probably nestled itself among the soft grasses that brushed against her ankles as she wearily hiked up the mildly steep hill once again. “W-Where are we going?” she gasped, panting slightly. She grinned without slowing down. “We’re going somewhere, obviously.” She rolled her eyes, even though she knew she wasn’t watching. Sometimes her vague speech frustrated her. “Explain yourself!” she demanded. “No need to,” she whispered, before placing a finger over her lips. She hesitated, puzzled, waiting for that crucial moment to pounce. She shrugged. “Well, I doubt my reality. I will always doubt it. The World spins on its head. The Oceans are splattered by the rain of tears and rose petals that forever spill from the eyes of Cloud. My World just isn’t. Yet I doubt that as well. The narcissistic Sky weeps in sorrow for the blocked mirrors of Lake, while the Sun bleeds crimson and gold across the Horizon before Dusk arrives with its veils of Stars. My fingers are stained by the feathery wings of dying butterflies. My soul burns from the lemon juice that’s squeezed from multiple attempts at Life. Which part of myself is real? Which one is a fake? I shall never know.” She watched the Sun above her. Soon her eyes burned to crisps, yet she could still see beyond the stars and planets that revolved around the Earth.

Yes, this indeed was a doubted reality.

the knight: a triolet

The tones of the piano sound so sweet
as the gallant pianist commands the keys.
While his fingers dance and flicker and fleet
the tones of the piano sound so sweet.
As he tames the wild rhythms and beat
there’s weeping among the fine ladies and trees.
The tones of the piano sound so sweet
as the gallant pianist commands the keys.