Pain...

Pain falls and I clutch at my umbrella, It wipes the streets void of impurities of happiness.
I watch the colors of anguish and their beauty transcends me, fills my black heart with sorrow.
I step in puddles of torn souls and my feet drenched with tears of past regrets and spent moments..
All the clouds Cry every one a gift of Depression, every rain drop my tender child that I drink of.
Antiquity is the founder of the sun, it rises behind the hills and looks upon the damp streets finds a voice to disquiet the taste of anxiety..
I tear my eyes from the light its too bright I will let my friends hold the Ra god in their hearts this is not a place my soul knows well not a place or home I will dwell long..
I turn Cloak black and billowing in the storm that brews, I walk into the Colors of night all around me a tornado of demons clutch at my skin and drag me into the heart of them.....
I rise into the sky a pillar of woe and I wonder if all the World can see the wind of change...
I am the coming of a new dawn, Hate consumes me I am a moth in binding lest not be born of the night for surly my wings will stretch far and deep and wide over all that I deem to be seditious.
I am Reborn....

The wings that unfold dead...
A life spent...
All the butterflies weep for the moth.

My umbrella on the ground the pain dried upon its thin texture, as I fly into the sun and burn my wings of sorrow into death.