Albeit the tears of sorrow and cometh days of rain,
A rainbow will appear in the sky,
Upon the dullest grey.
Soon to be reformed by the sun's glorious rays,
The Earth becomes sustained with ethereal waves.
The clouds of silver part their ways,
And disappear to another place.
YOU ARE READING
Book of Poetry
PoetryEvery line created within a poem; is a short story of its own.
