Archaeon sits at the bar, half a glass of wine in his hand and scraps of parchment covering the bartop. He sighs deeply, looking down at the scraps in front of him.
Suddenly he looks up, eyes filled with purpose, and starts scribbling on the closest scrap. the words flow from his mind onto the paper, and some of the bar as he goes over the edges.
As soon as the inspiration comes, it is gone. He looked over the collected ramblings and started to organise them onto a single sheet of parchment, his practiced eye reviewing his own work.
Tears From the Sky
When the Rain falls,
My thoughts of you come to view.
The rain reminds me of my tear drops,
Like heaven's crying too.
I miss the tender words you say,
That made my heart ring,
And took my breath away.
I feel your passion and love.
That helps me pull through,
I know we'll be together again one day,
I can feel it in my heart.
His eyes well up as he reads the words he has written. He almost screws the paper up, but decides against it at the last minute. He tucks the poem away in his pocket and polishes off his wine, heading out towards a happier day.