The sound of rain like whispers in my ears,
The soft sweet sound of the pitter-patter.
Although it may be silence that I hear,
I find that it truly does not matter.
Like a million lights of an endless dream.
The past I see was only meant to be,
Washed away by rain, revealing a seam.
An abyss that was only meant for me.

But I will not stare at this endless rain.
Nor will I find the thing for which I came.
This endless dream I may never attain,
For this my life, will never be the same.
It is here now that I see the past.
Like whispers of rain that may never last.