When it first began

In the light of sacred things

And you felt oblivious to any sort of pain

When it first began to rain

Then there came the steady flow

Slowly like a flood

Sweeping over everything and turning into mud

Why?



Is there nothing sacred left, nothing to hold on to?

Is there no way to make it up, nothing that you can do?

You believe what you want to believe



Not so long ago

It was as perfect as the snow

You can never know what things

May come to spoil your dreams

And to hurt you as they have

Do you hear the rain

So insistent on the windowpane?

A reminder of a night when everything was changed

Why?



Is there nothing sacred left, nothing to hold on to?

Is there no way to make it up, nothing that you can do?

You believe what you want to believe



When the light of morning comes

You see the damage done

And you know how many things

May never be the same

There you will remain

In the ruin after the rain



"the ruin after the rain"

Sunday, may 12, 1996