From the very edge of shadows
imagimotions play with sight,

hidden in those layers of darkness
lies an essence that rules the night.

Of course, she shouldn't wait impatiently
but, raindrops urge repast,

her cognitive skills are wavering
so, this decision may be her last.

So, while this fair maiden is forced to wait
inbetween the drops of her mind,

recollection urges her independant feet
to seek purchase, so as to find;

a place where solace rules the day
where one's confidence can't stop,

what pours out of her iniquities
silences each, and every drop.

'Tis sad for those still crying
and too late to make amends,

it's so cold, it'll soon be snowing
because she hasn't any friends.

And, by the time she finally realizes
why each drop must strike the ground,

both her feet will have found final purchase
in the shadow puddles, on sorrow's ground.