Rain

The morose clouds, sluggishly lumbering across the sky, broke down. Sullen, withdrawn, and in a languid mood the past few days, the clouds finally emptied their eyes. With thoughts blazing through their minds, ghosts of occurances past still echoing in their ears. Confused, uncertain, frightened, with only a glimmer of sunlight visible to their teary eyes.


Though not yet broken, the clouds will be on their way again soon. Diligently labouring towards their Goddess. Not losing faith, and stoking their fire of hope. Perhaps this is called blind faith. Then again, perhaps it is called love.


Always aim for the moon. If you do fail, at least you know you did your best. And besides, you will end up amongst the stars.