Amidst the celebrations, the chill in the air still remain.
Never a calm in the storm for feathers ruffled when wet cause a mess.
Scatters in areas, pin pointing its target, some caught unaware
It was never meant to be this way, for if one could foresee the path we were walking into
I would urge we stay clear, yet.
This is a walk we must take, and as we feel each drop shared by this bird, only some raise their hand in defence.
Whilst others allow it to seep into skin.
This was never how it was meant to be.
Testing times that subtract and divide, equalling in less than what was already minimal.
Sad is no longer a word that resonates, it is chewed, spewed like tobacco, dried by the sun & washed away by the rain leaving no trace
Indeed, its just a phase.
And like the word, I long for a feeling to express my thought but I sound like a prisoner harping innocence in a cage
Engulfed in rage however, the steam blew as the distance grew.
And like wine we mulled to be mature, finer at times, even bitter.
Never to be the same.
I pray for change.