The drop

[Bueller]

Hi Shrewbe! I wonder if your screen name is a play on newbie or shrew -- are you a shrew of a newbie? Nah, just playing with you.

Ok, so I kinda like this. It speaks to me of hope, longing, unfulfilled desire, the hope for an idea of destiny and purpose in life, and how to deal when these things are thwarted or remain unfulfilled. Very cool.

Keep in mind that I liked it, and then I'll pick a few nits as I see them.

A drop of ink sat safe in its bottle
and everyday it prayed 
to be the next drop out in the world
who'll colour all waters in its way.

That drop watched others as they escaped
gathering momentum to make an unknown fall
and thought of how it would feel 
then decided it was worth it all. -- 'worth it all' feels like a weak ending. Doesn't say much. All what? What is the all? I think you should be more specific and bring in more of what the drop is thinking/feeling.
 
So the drop then waited for a sign
convinced of its destiny
and dreamt of the moment of union 
with all the waters it thought it could see.

The day of judgement came thereafter
a hand of god was said to have been felt, -- the phrasing here is very awkward -- I think the root of it is the 'have been felt' construction which forces everything else into unnatural positions to compensate. Change that from a passive to an active and the whole sentence will change for the better.
and something took over the drop  -- 'something' needs to be clarified. Nothing is gained by this kind of vagueness.
as it hurled itself beyond the neck.

It massaccared its fellow drops 
and forged ahead to its destiny
at the tipping point it saw some waters 
and cried full of epiphanies. -- this whole strophe is strange to me. Why did it have to kill the other drops? What epiphanies? This part of the storyline doesn't make sense.

As it was about to fall 
a curious thing happened,
its world violently begun to shake 
and all the drops came at it!

they all then turned into a wave,
and the drop couldn't tell what happened
and all it could think of was the waters 
and what it could have been. -- I get the shaking of the bottle in the previous strophe, but I don't understand the wave. Perhaps the liquid coming to rest after being shaken? Why would the wave cause the drop to despair? What changed with the wave and the shaking? Is it because it was merged with the others and lost it's true self?

While it was dying it saw the truth 
and caught a glimpse of his god...

...it was the artist who had slippery hands
who dropped the bottle to the ground. -- I like the comparison to the artist and God. That's strong. It makes me think of the Simpsons episode where Lisa inadvertently creates a civilization that looks up to her as their supreme leader. Here, the unfulfilled destiny thread makes sense. I think you start to introduce that too early in previous spots, and its impact is lessened here at the end. Talking about the 'day of judgment' brings that drama too soon for my liking.

I think you also need to be careful not to push the metaphor so hard that it verges on sentimentality. I think you need to let the facts of the story speak for themselves a little more.

I hope some of this ramble helps in some fashion. If anything is unclear, let me know and I'll try my best to explain my inarticulate self.

Again, I like this premise -- you have a good base to work with.

Cheers,

Luke