black umbrellas

Death like rain falls from the sky anytime day or night.
Gently caressing blades of grass, crashing down from heights so fast.
Clouds form and gather filling with gray, looming over head, forever April, where is May?
Distance and time no one knows, it seems dark and unfair to those
who left inside are high and dry sitting all alone wasted to die
with fears and ghosts and haunting shames, trapped inside window pains...

Let blackened skies unfold their wrath pouring down a clearer path,
where mud and stains are washed away, Yes! death come, come i say!
And free my soul from all these years of mold
Drench me with treasures not of gold,
but eternal blossoms formed from storms giving breath to all new born's
The question still lingers... Why?...
To die is to gain and to live is to die.