Starting up in the frigid, misty clouds, the ice vapor deliquesces as it descends back to earth.
In the streets, and on the housetops, the rain patters, and lulls people to sleep with its steady rhythm.
As I sit outside, the sky starts to rain with more fury and drenches me, cleaning and purifying.
I like to have the rain wash my face, rather than my tears; the rain has come to rinse the despondency away.
But the relentless battering of the rain doesn't always help.
I now find myself crying again, and the rain mixing with tears.
People can be so callous, creating mayhem in my mind.
You're the only consistently charitable, compassionate, charismatic, and cuddly person I've ever met.
Everyone has told me to be careful, and to listen to my heart, and so far mine has spoke faintly.
After meeting you and the time we've spent together, my heart sings with all its vigor.
Winter is on my head, but eternal spring is in my heart.