It constantly rains..it pours..it gets cold..it gets troublesome.

Everyday is the same..every move is a struggle..every decision is a mistake. Or is it exactly the opposite? It is too early to associate things, facts, people, events with what it should be or not.

For now it rains..a solid..macabre rain that disturbs the dead people in their graves. They have no patience and they get out. They open their rotten eyes and look around. The world hasn’t changed much since they departed. They think it wasn’t worth coming back after all…all is the same..all the bad..the wrong..the hurtful..the sad.

They go back into their coffins and cry. Cry because they were once alive and they haven’t changed anything. They thought about it…but they never acted. Then it was too late. Death came and sung a lullaby and beheaded them. Now..they’re just useless flesh..rotten..full with maggots that carve into their bones…endlessly.

The rain becomes a funeral. The people show it on their faces. They look down..disappointed. Did I do that to them?..wasn’t my first choice..but hey..nobody’s perfect.

Black. And dark. And night ..with creepy shadows and grey fog to hide the hungry eyes of these demons. I have them in me. They eat me alive. They wanna get out..but I cannot let them. I only let them to taste reality once in a while. Then..they calm down and let me do good. I think..I used to think..

Too many rain drops..and too much blood on my hands. I hate this rain..I’m soaked..and I’m cold.

I think I just died..

2 thoughts on “Rain..

  1. Alia Sultan

    It’s been a while since I read something this good. It’s very deep and could also be interpreted to reflect the political situations here in the middle east.
    Loved it 🙂


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