why are the windows so sad?
raindrops fall,
slowly pouring into a destined puddle.

so thirsty for life,
shall i drink from this pool of sadness
or lament with my own blend of liquid despair?
another glimpse at the window -
the glass is my transparent heart.
complementary portals to outer and inner celestial truths.
both shattered,
struck by confusion and rage,...
the jagged shard begs to impale the soul it represents.

when glass and hearts collide,
does it rain even harder?

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