When hope would otherwise become hopelessness, it becomes faith. - Robert Brault
|The world in a raindrop by Saint Groovus Maximus|
Her land suffered from long time persistent drought.
Plants and trees in this land were withered,
Her well was dried up for a long time.
Residents, animals, creatures were parched with thirst.
Looking up to sky, hoping for a little drop of water,
They wished Will it be today? Will it be tomorrow?
They heard Friedrich Nietzsche's echo -
In reality, hope is the worst evils, because it prolongs mans' torments.
All living things in this land refused to listen to that voice.
Their stubborn resistance kept her living.
It was torture. It was heart breaking.
Her lips were cracked and bled.
Would it be today? Will we have any drop of water?
Drip, drop, split, splat,
A droplet of sweet and clear liquid.
Gently, softly wet the barren desert.