From lips that smile over weeping sky to console the bitter people come feathered flush and coloured brow above the highest steeple. The faintest whisper, breathing softly colours through the gloom a faint caress of gentle magic for those who see it's bloom.
The sheet of rain she needs to don the ray of colour causes most to cover and hide from luminescent shower. It daunts her not, she'll see it through to it's fading end. To every breath must come it's in even a rainbows angelic end.