I live in a city of grey
Weaved from broken dreams
Nothing here stays
Except—
The rain
I can trust the rain
It has not stopped
For as long as I remember

As I look out the wet glass
I recall a childhood myth
When the rain clears,
It will bring with it a most precious,
Unearthly treasure
Rain—
"Rain—"
Yet I wonder
Why the legend still exists
When the rain never stops
And the Believers no longer remember
Its name