Hepatica Ana Maria

Marching on,
Leaning on,
The verge of
Flodding tears.

Needing love,
Maybe more,
Than either of them
Could offer.

A Silver Rain
Rusts, the swings
That led to
The Gateway of Paradise.

Now so alone
Lost, and feeling hopeless
An ever-reaching, with hastening sorrow
Maria.

A Silver Rain
Rusts, the swings
That led to
The Gateway of Paradise.

A new feeling
Arises from the puddles
of yesterday's tears
An unyielding yet crestfallen
Maria.