"even death is about second chances."

It rains.
The light drizzle falls on my face,
mixes with my tears,
and trails down my cheek.

The thought comes back to me again.

Maybe we aren't meant to be?
Maybe it's all a lie or all a dream?

But the reality is too real and too vivid.
How I wish it’s otherwise.

My feet stays glued to the ground
as they take my dead body out of the river.

The cycle starts again.