the afterparty

In the barren moors,
the silence swells,
filling the void.

Tears fall,
carving trails on the skin,
yet providing a moist clarity,
mending broken places.

The grass whispers
secrets of rebirth,
every drop a promise,
every tear a renewal.

The horizon stretches,
endless, with hope
seeping into the earth.

In this moment,
life whispers softly
in the language of
rain and silence.