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.
Slowly into the path Path of hope, joy, greatness Standing all kind of weather Drizzles, showers, hurricane, all kinds With faith I still ride on It seems far away But I have heard stories of heroes who made it Am
I try to sleep; but still wonder, where this hole is, The roof seems okay; the moon rays can’t penetrate, Nevertheless, every dawn; my bed is wet, the floor dry, Have consulted the carpenter, Inquired from the engineer on any
I looked from my window into a open space A tree stood lonely and swayed with mighty grace In the sky the clouds were gathering dark with silver lining Circling round and moving like a sheep farm shearing From a