On a drenched, dark, soaked up night while the rain was rinsing the city clean my mind went wandering over to a wasteland of forgotten memories
Where-in, as a child I'd sit by the window and watch the rain droplets trickling down and leaving behind a trail, a stream that rest of the drops followed
My inquisitive mind would wonder at the mystic sounds of thunder and I'd feel somewhat intoxicated with the scent of the first rain and the tranquil, serene sense that it lefts after
Coming back to my senses yet feeling vaguely inebriated with the surrounding earthly aroma I climbed to my bed and I could hear the quiet enveloping the room and I could hear the rustling blankets and I could hear my heart... skipping a beat for the melancholic beauty of rainy days
Rain stimulates me, Rain heals me, Rain makes me feel alive Rain reminds me that 'I exist'