• Oft rain descends,
    Like heaven's tears upon us,
    It feels as if the world is breaking,
    Crashing into the past which was,
    Just another cut upon the bleeding hearts,
    Of those who feel the pain,
    Coming from each dying soul,
    As the sky bleeds again,
    Oft it makes us feel as if the master plan,
    Has been undone,
    As if life's only leading to the end,
    That you are merely one,
    Another soul in the vast abyss,
    Of endless darkness overtaking,
    As every power becomes,
    Forsaking,
    Oft our wings are found,
    Silver, golden, bright,
    Yet in the dying morning,
    We lose them to the night,
    Only to awaken,
    To the bright rays of the sun,
    Realizing that of infinity,
    You are in the majority of one,
    Oft we feel as if there will be no more,
    As if our lives are over,
    Yet to save the world,
    You find your wings and of sorrow you get sober,
    Because beneath it all is meaning,
    And there is a master plan,
    Only you can write your own ending,
    You can make it grand,
    Oft falls the rain upon us,
    Not as tears but diamonds bright,
    And as years pass and you are happy,
    You write your life out right...