Oh, rain a midnight pour in unrelenting persistence, nothing but the wild falling rain
On this bleak isolated hut, where suffocating solitude reigns grasps and rules
It reminds me that I shall end and die with every drop again and again
How long this rain can last; listen to the voice of rain cold with wind so cruel
This purposeless rain is it about washing the world cleaner than it has been
What purpose it may serve, being born into this solitude with no aid around to be seen
I wish I was dead for blessed are the dead that the rain rains upon
Unlike me waiting the rain to pause or cease before the rise of dawn
The frigid rain gathers in cold springs among broken reeds,
A throng of broken brown reeds all tattered, still and stiff,
Like me who have no love which this wild rain on tin roof beat beat
Has not dissolved except the share of misery and grief
Solitude grabs me in this night of relentless rain
It is the time when I compelled to search through all I felt and saw
The springs of life, the depth of pain and extremity of awe
The chain of our very knitted purport, all gone in vain
The sporadic rain with fitful alternations and day light has no gain
When the chill wind as it moans, languid as with acidic pain
With its own heavy moisture, lingering in the open air
And drives through the gray and beamless morbid atmosphere
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