As each rain dropp pelt the window shield he begin to feel. Begin to feel all the mistakes that led him to this hill, over looking the plains. And still came the rain, sustained only by his tears and the fears of the years as his demeanor begin to unravel the thunder appeared and the memories steered him to step from the car and look afar. Drenched from head to toe he begins to throw sling and bring his pain to the world, but all was still the same. Fell to his knees and screamed in pain. The conversation muted words couldn’t be computed but from the emotions on his face you knew he now faced. THE RAIN, the pain, but his world was still sustained. Unchanged undeterred he cried but the rain wouldn’t let show. How could a man cry and its disguised by the sky, the world cries harder so for him there’s no reply. You wonder why, not I my reply for I have rained and no tears appeared and affirmed my fears. Along in the world and no one here hears. Head lights beaming and from the radio there’s singing. But no comforting for a soul left alone on this plain this hill. Still the rain comes now drenched from head to toe, but he want let go, cant let go. So he goes to a place were he feels the most comfort, the most love on this hill was were he found love lost found trepidation for the world to account each….and every ounce. And the rain continued to swallow him hold, the story left untold. Behold he struggles with the world, nowhere is this story told, NO. Feeling the grass sway between his feet, heard the song once more as his heart closed the door no more. Once again he cried, but even to his self he’s lied, PRIDE. And the only one to hear was the elements outside, He cried. Despised all he ever learned all he ever knew. Every fable told, oh so untrue. They lied to me you and you. Yet the story goes untold. The rain flows. The clouds go…. all the while, no one knows, suppose you felt the same, but had no where to go. If life dealt you heartache and you had no where to run, undone by misfortune and no one would come. To many or shall I say plenty this is the plight of life that goes unchanged. Sustained but love, but when love is lost who teaches this story words from the mouth. Doubt. And the rain continues to flow. The story untold when the rain subsides do roses bloom, or does the flood consumes you. And the rain continued to fall. Back against the wall he continued to think, was life worth living one moment more perhaps for a week. BLEEK. And the rain continued to fall. He reached into his pocket and brandished his fathers’ gun. The same gun he received, with the words, “protect the family son”. And he begin to place the barrel to the temple of all his troubles, smothered the thoughts of his wife daughter and mother. And the rain continued to come. The thunder echoed louder soon the rain would cease, but would blood be splattered. Yet the rain continued to come. He ran his finger over the steel trigger. “No one would miss him”, was what he figured. Remembered his life and all that had occurred, felt pressure and tension starring at the stars but never wincing no one here to stop his last intentions. BOOM, as the thunder exploded across the sky, and his last tear befell his eye. No more tears, no more cries for on this hill, was his last good bye. And the rain continued to cry, across the fallen body of a man left deprived. This is the story, of when love last died. So all who hear understand the plot, remember the fallen, remember me not. For every story told, there goes a tale untold. The lonely nights alone no one to hold, the empty seat with no one to console, they say they understand, but who really knows. It rained and rained and rained a little more, these are the lessons of love left ignored. Destitute from all existence, like Romeo and Juliet, loves last intentions. Til death do us part, the story goes untold.
by Keith Hardeman