untitled

I scribbled this with the tears of a dying unicorn with one of its tail-feather-things while I was half asleep. Don't judge.

Untitled

he falls from above

a long long way down

the rectangles turn to buildings

dull green to trees

shiny-eyed monochromatic boxes to cars

he pitters, they patter, on dusty sidewalks

one drop among a million others

shouts blending into thunderous noise

the single-toned choir

each singing his own song

flowing, washing, swirling

bringing life to a stagnant land

but lost among his own

the body of blue filling the earth

who can see me?

he is picked up

almost forcibly removed

the world turns blue and green again

it looks so small

but he is even smaller

I don't even know what it means. It's about a raindrop who finds himself in an endless cycle. I am aware that it switches to first-person at the end of the third paragraph. Feel free to analyse it however you want. Extra ten points if you write a commentary and let me read it.

-Jont