Coming from the darkness of the sky,
Darker still forshadows end anon.
Having never wondered when and why,
What once was here on turrning find it gone.
Washed away as if with dying haste,
Costly gift slips through undeserving hands.
Realizing life had gone to waste,
Alone yet no longer ignorant one stands.
They fall so swiftly that few are caught,
Although there could be some to capture.
So many go and alas return with nought,
Although they know the rain gives unchecked rapture.
It flows so smooth when it comes to rest,
and collects in a calming little pool.
To not want to end it, if only to test,
That very man would be thought a fool.
For death is that quiet calming shower,
Be not affraid, for to us it often shows its power.