05/19/2026
Star light and rain drops
By Dustin west
Beneath the weeping vault of night, I stand in silent sin,
Where rain begins its endless rite and pulls the darkness in.
Each droplet falls like judgment carved in heaven’s patient hand,
And drags the stain of mortal weight back into shifting sand.
The sky is bruised with ancient grief, unspoken, vast, and deep,
A thousand buried wrongs awake from where they learned to sleep.
No voice is here but thunder’s breath that groans through hollow air,
As if the world confesses all it never chose to bear.
And I am less a man than ash still clinging to the flame,
Unmade by all I have become, yet called by no true name.
Above me burn the twilight stars like relics cold and white,
The echoes of forgotten souls dissolved into the night.
They watch in endless, distant calm, no anger left to give,
As if they once endured this weight and learned the way to live.
And in their gaze I feel the truth no language can contain—
That cleansing is not mercy born, but suffering made plain.
So let the storm descend in full, unbound and unrestrained,
And strip away the rot I wore, the silence, and the stain.
Let lightning carve the marrow clean, let wind erase my form,
Till nothing but a hollow truth remains deep within the storm.
For every drop that breaks the dark and falls through star-lit fire,
Unthreads the chains I wore in life, dissolving each desire.
No plea remains, no need for name, no burden left to keep,
Just rain that writes upon my soul what time refused to keep.
And still the night goes deeper than the reach of waking thought,
Where all the sins I thought were mine are slowly being un-taught.
The storm becomes a scripture writ in water, ash, and flame,
Erasing every lie I wore, unmaking every name.
I feel the weightless hollow form where guilt once held its reign,
A silence born not from escape, but forged entirely in pain.
The stars no longer feel like watchers, distant and removed,
But fragments of the same vast wound through which I once was proved.
And in that wound I see the shape of everything I was—
A passing shadow, briefly held, then lost without a cause.
Yet still I stand within the roar, within the breaking sky,
Where even sorrow learns to fade, and even pain must die.
So let it come, the final wash, the endless breaking sea,
Until the storm has stripped the world of everything but me—
No “me” that clings to shame or fear, no fractured self to claim,
Just something quieter than breath, unbound from guilt or name.
And in that vast, collapsing hush where all illusions cease,
The rain becomes the only law… and silence becomes peace.