Do you not care, do you not see? Do you breathe the name of your savior in your hour of need? Do you taste the blame, does the flavor remind you of your sin? Can you stop the fire from within? What if I am the rain? What if I am your savior? Will you feed the rain? The world starts to rust I think my heart is about to bust It’s all a game, avoiding failure All in the name of the great savior And all those things we don’t need I am lost, I hope to never fall But that wouldn’t be the end to it all I want to feed the rain Let it pour Because without I am not alive Without it, it’s just rust from the inside The savior looks down on us She smiles and doesn’t let the rain come and wash our sins away But this time I won’t need the savior I will feed the rain, I am thirsty for love and I will dance I will dance under the sunny skies until someone cries.
Srdjan Solkotovic(Srđan Šolkotović) is a young aspiring author born on the 6th of January, 1993. Currently owner of The Writing Hut and literature student, a writer born in Serbia, raised by multinational parents (Serbian/Wallachian father and Romanian mother).The first time I was interested in writing was around the age of 12. It seemed fun to create worlds that people enjoyed to read about. Writers are amazing, creating with only pen and paper. Like playing god.Most of my works are of a poetic nature but I have written and published some erotica. Now I have a few projects that I will work on and I hope that you will enjoy reading them when they are finished.
Once I dare… Once I dare to write my story, Memories crowded falling me weak… And words played hide and seek. Once I dare to lost in Love, brain went on compulsory leave… Mercifully, I survived of dying dive. Once
I lay in bed Listening to the hammering rain Pit pat pit pat Beating on the window pane I gaze at these racing drops Hitting a different note each fall Spreading the fragrance in the air Of their rendezvous with
I awake to the gloom of a cloud covered sky, There’s a dampness that floats with the air. A stillness and peace has enveloped my world, And I don’t see a soul anywhere. You can already smell the rain on
Breeze rippling sheer embroidered patches as sunlight streaming shadows prance across plastered walls… As precipitation mist cool Floridian rays beaming tin roofs. Winter temps once again; no show. pre-Black Power, post-slavery; steel railroad tracks line wooded villages alluring Negro Parramore
Instant in second thought would we peer morely impoverished flame would we adhere lonely would we let love persevere or love in lost love in those disappear into a pleasance our one love so near an impoverished flame of our heart so sincere pleasance from love we once sought in