Rekindle on what was buried by foolishness;
Grass seemed greener on the other side rather than the thunderous field the soles of my feet stood;
I thought they would seize the day to call the coward a pluviophile.
Vigorous downfall that covered all surfaces,
By sound and appearance alone, everything was menacing.
But the sensation gave the skin a light tickle; gentle as it seemed—
Then, I found myself wanting to bask in this atmosphere on my skin.
A hint of Chloris’ petals scattered messily in the right places in between these lines;
Tinge with timid little pink hues, written with an intensity not several, but one could fathom.
Gaze upon the perceived truth; regardless on what side was chosen—
The fine, thickened paní rich in Erebus’ tenderness, meant more than what it was.
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