Raindrop rhythm

Falling fingers
striking keys
like a summer shower
that flows in waves.

A raindrop rhythm
that rolls in like the ocean tide,
waxes full in the sky,
and fades to a moonless night.

Breathless silence
yields to eager applause
as another storm rises
in jubilation.

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Indigo

The King
was quite well loved,
and his mourning kingdom
laid him to rest in the evening.
Farewell.

*This poem is a continuation of a project where I chose a color, and wrote a poem on the first three words that came to mind. In this case, they were twilight, mourning, and an end of things (ending).*