The Drop

The drop cascades down the pane
Reflection twin keeping casual time
A trail marking what has been
A trail etching through the grime
The drop glistens in yellowed light
Sliding at its idiosyncratic pace
Plunging into gravity’s delight
Until it’s halted at the window base
The drop’s sibling runs its course
Tracing a new lane in the dust
Both derived from a singular source
Both trickling with a sense of hush
The drop and its brother united at last
Resting upon the degenerating sill
Reminiscing about their turbulent past
Reminiscing about when they lost their will
The drop soon merged with fallen others
Amalgamating into a tell-tale pool
Remnants of life from within another
Slaughtered by a presumptuious fool
Hundred of drops cascade down the pane
Several leaving an unpleasant smudge
The window splattered with crimson rain
Dishonest glass riddled with fresh blood

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