• So before you start reading the piece, I would encourage you to open up this site to set the backgroud music and the mood as it would presumably add more downpour to every words read. (Be sure to lower the volume of the ‘mood’ site and let the music be heard more clearly)

The Downpour

I was a bit excited, enthusiastic in a sense, when a heavy rain surged a while back today thinking, “how long it has been since I plunged myself under a rainfall?”, and undeniably just as I expected, though soaked under hefty drops of water, I was also drenched in a melancholic deluge.

The rain befits my life as the music to my emotion. How it compliment the sadness within… My clothes were dripping wet so also my heart. They say, “its better to cry under a rain for no one will see your tears” but I say, “no one will know the sob within even with all thine smiles and sneers” …more further – no one can know.

I was bowing down, arching as though I could not look up to see the sky, maybe I shouldn’t say “I could not”, shouldn’t it be “I will not”? The rain drops however tiny felt like pebbles and pains me still, how much more when it hits my eyes whenever I tried to glance upward. I did try and bowed not anymore, as I shifted my face skyward, I did but could not open my eyes so that I could not see, yet instead felt every bead of drizzle upon me. I took a chair and just sat the whole time since, I sat still and could hear the sound of clashing waters; it deafened me from all other noise but not wholly from all other, for there is a din, a clamour, a blare inside me that outgrown the external clatters of rain; yea even more loud. A noise I could not hear with my ear, yet so brash and voluble; a sound so certain – “the voice without a voice” it is that made me first of all so gloomy. My judgment went wind-borne yonder as I sat quietly, the wetness of my skin together with the wind, chills me in every respect, yet how cold have I been? So that the wintry air I felt outside could not compare to what I feel within; the chilly rain and nippy breeze is somehow to no avail, maybe for my skin but it done me no good inward, the more so a din.

The thunders and lightning plays above the clouds, they chase each other endlessly and they seem so happy, then I thought to myself, “If they run aground and bolt on land nigh distant from me, they would strike me dead.” But physical death is far-removed from my fears now, I dread not its pain and not at all anxious by the thought, all I want if I it can be, is to wrap this awful feeling all throughout beneath…

…the downpour.

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