November Rain

There is mournful cry in the November rain.
Soulful rain.
Tap, tap, tapping on my darkened pane,
Window pane.

Cold winds whisk by with an icy breath,
With a wailing voice that whispers death.
Tree tops curve away from the darkened sky
Bend and die.

What gives such sadness to the rain?
November Rain.
It wails like a soul in human pain.
Soul in pain.

Frozen wetness chills the flowers heads
Ice cold upon their  summer beauty
now lay dead.
It knows such beauty must decay.
Slowly Passing youth away.

I wish to know this November rain.
Endless rain.
Saddening  my heart as it streams down the pane.
Weeping pane.

Is it taunting the autumn leaves that fled?
Watering gravestones
where more than flowers and grass lie dead.
Do they haunt our memories once again
In the relentless taunting November rain?
Haunting rain.