Tell A Tale in 500 Words

Red Rain By Joshua Matthews

Can the sky bleed?

I always thought that when the rain starts,

The clouds are crying.

That's why people shy away from the rain I think.

To block out their tears and sorrow.

But what if the clouds feel pain when you hide?

When you stay inside on a wet day in front of the fire.

What would you do under Red Rain?

Instead of the usual transparent, blue water,

That falls from the sky, the earth bled for you.

As if it felt saddened enough to hurt itself because of us.

Red rain burns,

As Mother Earth bleeds.

Even the moon bleeds for us.

Every so often it impales itself, a blood red.

And yet our prejudices still aren't fed.

When it it turns we whisper evil.

Fear demons and darkness.

Why kill the moon when its other changes are blessed?

The blood moon, a red sky.

To me the Earth cries to us.

She weeps and bleeds, not for our faults, but for our help.

She needs us to be there for her.

But to us she is a whore.

To be taken for granted through our greed, lust and shame.

We taint her, our Earth, like a waking nightmare.

At the blood moon we whisper demons,

But those who whisper for demons,

Are the harbingers of evil.

Can the sky bleed?

I always thought that when the rain starts,

The clouds are dying.

We fuck our Mother Earth,

Yet question why she cries to us.

When Red Rain falls,

Seasons merge.

No summer, no winter.

No spring, nor autumn.

She loves us like no other,

So why do we make her cry?

We claim to live for her,

But would we let her die?

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