Laden caverns of heavy breathing

Drops are falling
like wind in heavy storms
they scatter in all directions
seeking out their pattern
looking for their place,
sometimes though
the sky is dark
and nowhere leads to landing,
footing moves on iffy paths
and eyes seek out withstanding.

The hopeless are still in standing
with holes agape their chest
and weeping goes on for miles
fluttering sounds of never rest,
knuckles reach over the broken
knowing little of what they seek
and yet the hearts are flooded
resting in pools of reflection;
so plainly I beseech thee
lay me down in peaceful sorrows
and spare me the introspection.

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