droplets fall staedily,
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the pattering occasionally pierced,
by thunder from ominous clouds.
though day dawned hours ago,
only darkness emanates from the sky.
drops glisten on the oak box,
slipping around its smooth wooden lid.
puddles of water form
at the bottom of the grave.
almost as if to send a vessel on its path.
on the faces of grim onlookers,
mingling with the tears already present.
asthe casket lowers,
the rain falls harder.
mother earth mourning her own loss.
through shimmering leaves,
making the world shine anew.