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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #2149840
A poem about how nature could lead one to ponder the afterlife.
The rain tip-taps on the window,
awakening the mind without hinder.
Drops representing a rewarding feeling,
reminding me that there is a ceiling.
Death is pondered but not morbidly,
leading to a place of majestic reality.
Shining brightly as the angels sing.
A venue where there is everything,
Thinking if I will ever wear wings?
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2149840