The rain, falling softly yet with speed upon the earth as the crisp pitter patter of the little drops of water land and burst upon the ground I look to the sky,

The rain, landing upon my skin, rolling down leaving a trail of its presence as it slowly shrinks dampening my scars,

The rain, streaming down from the clouds like the tears from my eyes as I fall to the ground, as my clothes become transparent as I become drenched in the mud of the sodden ground, the tears of the clouds and my own,

The rain, running down my spine like a cold finger with a sharp nail at its end, cutting, chilling,

The rain, slowing, each drop catching the light as if it were a magnifying glass held to the sun,

The rain, the last drop falls and the sun appears, revealing the world around, lifting the fog of the war thought within, revealing the path,