Watching The Rain Poem by Emma Atkinson

I feel the melancholy of the rain,
As if it were my very soul crying.
It is a dull, pounding sort of pain,
And from it I am dying.

My soul lies listless as the flat grey sky,
And my heart murmurs like raindrops on the trees.
I sit, lethargic, and watch as time slips by,
Moved not even by the breeze.

The rain falls, a pale, unrelenting curtain,
Confusing my thoughts,
Thoughts that slow, themselves uncertain,
But are like the rain, which never stops.

The heavens cry, and I feel their sadness,
But I haven't the strength left for tears.
I watch only with fractured madness,
Thunder echoing in my ears.