There was a thunder in your eyes- you were born to be a rainstorm,

To send your voice throughout the autumn midnight.

To sing your lovely song with teary raindrops,

To break the darkness with your beaming light.

You were born to show your raw beauty,

To wash the hideous grime blinding their eyes.

But when the whole world ran for cover,

You opened up your ultramarine blue skies.

So you silenced the echoing thunder,

And learned to close your third eye of anger.

You gave the world what they wanted,

You gave them the richness of life and the golden sun.

But as they watched their lives dilapidating- ceasing to exist,

Watched as the leaves turned from banana green to tree bark dry.

They suddenly wished they hadn’t take you for granted,

Your ethereal presence in the booming sky.

You were born to the pregnant moon- born to be a rainstorm,

To be thunderous and bold.

To show them that there is wisdom and strength,

That you can’t be controlled.

Because at times you might think you’re not needed,

Life without you soars like a sand hill crane.

But nothing beautiful would ever grow,

Hadn’t it been washed with rain.