It started very slowly,
first one drop, then two,
it was barely perceivable,
an addition to the dew.

But as I walked,
day by day,
it couldn’t be ignored,
it kept growing by the minute,
supplied by endless stores.

The rain came down steadily now,
and soon I was running –
running out of Liberation
Happiness
Joy

-but the rain did not stay a gentle downpour,
it came to bruise my skin,
but I did not care,
I ran faster,
and so the trouble begins.

The rain bruised and beat me,
and soon every inch of my skin
was black and blue all over,
and yet I did not give in.

It hurt to run,
It hurt so bad,
but still I could not stop,
for I was running down a steep hill,
and I could not go back up.

Racing and racing,
and now crying,
crying out from pain,
but it is not my bruises that give me the anguish,
that’s not why I complain.

Only he can save me,
I see him watching me,
oh, if he knew the pain he’s caused me,
would he then pitch in?

but no,
he stands and stares,
oblivious to my pain,
and if he cannot help me,
I know that no one can.

So I’m doomed here to run,
slowly but surely falling apart,

falling,

falling,

broken.