I turn my face up to the rain
Silent, begging for the end of pain.
The raindrops mingle with my tears;
I have not cried for many years.
This face is a wire of fear
Bound 'round her whom I hold so dear,
Driving from that place I called "home,"
Forcing me to stand in the rain alone.
I long to end it all, to sleep
And spend eternity in silence deep,
To run away, to die
And evermore in solemn stillness lie.
Would the cruel edge of a knife
Be enough to take this life?
Will I be forgotten before long -
Will she miss me when I'm gone?
When will the river flood -
Or would those waters be my blood . . .
As I die, will I feel the pain,
Or only death flowing slowly, like rain?
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