November Rain

There is mournful cry in the November rain.
Soulful rain.

Tap, tap, tapping on my darkened pane,
Window pane

Cold winds blow with an icy breath,
With a wailing voice that whispers death.

Tree tops curve away from  sky
Bend and die.

What gives such sadness to the rain?
November Rain.

It cries like a soul in human pain.
Soul in pain.

Frozen wetness chills the flowers heads
Ice cold upon the summer beauty
now lay dead.

It knows such beauty must decay.
Passing youth away.

I wish to know this November rain.
Endless rain.

Saddens my heart as it streams down the pane.
Weeping pane.

Is it taunting the brown leaves now fled?
Watering gravestones
where more than leaves lie dead.

Do they haunt our memories once again
In the relentless taunting November rain?
Haunting rain.