April 13, 2010
Water falls from these sacred skies,

The pain and cries,

All subside.

Hope washes over these growing lands,

As children stand and raise their hands.

The crops begin to grow and sprout,

The world is put in much less doubt.

People pray as the lands a flood,

Because they wash away all the blood

Water falls from these scared skies,

all the pain and cries,

Just Subside.

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