It’s when the world feels like it will end soon,
And all the good around starts to die out.
The sky breaks loose, appearing from its cocoon.
The wrath erupts, no happiness about.
Enraged clouds form, they let out the remorse.
The drops drip down right from the dreary sky.
My window has small drops of its weak force.
I sigh, lie down, again and say “good-bye.”
The sound made by the storm calms down the air.
I grin as the sky weeps with rage, with fear,
I hear the cries of others, which could scare,
If God is there, and knows, he sheds a tear.
Rain cascades down to the ground; lets grief out,
The voice for ones who never spoke their doubt.