When the Rain Pours

To be known
and misunderstood
like God
is tortuous.

Like the infinite universe,
when will I discover myself
and when will someone else?

Striving solely towards nothingness
like a cloud that will dissipate,
desire only exists in my mind.

When death arrives like lightning
the rain in me will pour.

Love this poem. … I love this poem, thought whatever. Love it! Hate it for being true, and yet love it still.