I screamed to the waters,
My sorrow and pain.
For help I asked others,
Yet no one came.
I wrote my sorrow on sand,
And waited for rain to wash it,
But the drought doesn’t have an end.
And my soul forgot about being lit.
I’ve spoken to the ocean,
And told it that I’m tired.
It said, it doesn’t have the time notion,
But when I speak to it, it will not retire.
The stars and the moon know,
That I’m a broken, tired soul,
Waiting for the night to end my pain,
And for the clouds, to cry in the rain.