I allow the rain to fall over me, 
to bathe the stains and wish them gone - 
to wish them back. 
He's coming towards me.
The passing glimpses of light
return my clarity
and kill the demon's seductive whispers.
He's standing here. 
To forget the regrettable memories - 
the scenes that flash and block my sight - 
would be more of a sin.
His eyes are gone.
			
									
									
						When I Look Back To You
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