Poem for celestialbloodlitmag with a word limit of: 264

Cascade.
Pit-pat, tip-tap.
Fast, slow, hard, soft.
From streams to rivers,
From above to below.

I stand in the dark,
I avoid the pain,
by letting the rain wash it all away,
Broken apart with raindrops beating against my heart.

Sometimes alone, sometimes accompanied.
I'd sit by candlelight, write my pain in words of a thousand.
Thunder would clash, lightning would strike.
They would light my tearful eyes.

In sorrow, I'd weep,
In fear, I'd cower,
In pain, I'd write,
In love, I'd fight.

Have you heard of the butterfly effect?
How a flap of a butterfly's wing could predict a storm on the way?
A raindrop is quite the same.

It starts with one, then two. Three. Four. One hundred. A thousand.
Rain to storm to flood to cascade.

Many I know hide their pain, drown their tears in the rain.
But none could express their mental chains.

Much of the world as we know is covered by oceans we haven't explored,
Monsters may dwell beneath but none are scarier than the ones in me. Majority of the rain that still drops hides away all that only deepens our thoughts. Like the ocean that hide away the many of thousand undiscovered. Waiting to be uncovered

I have been swept over by the ocean of my own tears, drowning me out and spilling my fears.
My lovers have fled, my lovers have had others in my bed. Yet the rain still falls, the moon shall rise.
All in spite of my demise.