Riddle XVI

Treading raindrops as if torrents of water,

     Falling harbinger's wrought of hatred, Inspiring the greatest of fear in the depths of anyone, Despite the momentary circumference of every moment's secret, That the once stacked now uncomfortably panicked minute taste of hope's positive gravity is fading from bright resilient white into mute paranoid grey is eventually just a background illusionary figure in twilight's eventuality, Where black without remedy has infected unto death the universe within most each and everyone!

In lieu of our participating in,
Pretending it's okay...
When inside it isn't,
Though...
Who will listen,
And help mend us,
For this is love...!