I allow the rain to fall over me,
to bathe the stains and wish them gone -
to wish them back.
He's coming towards me.
The passing glimpses of light
return my clarity
and kill the demon's seductive whispers.
He's standing here.
To forget the regrettable memories -
the scenes that flash and block my sight -
would be more of a sin.
His eyes are gone.
When I Look Back To You
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