It would be quite nice, you know?

Quite nice to find oneself lost in the rain

Not snow, oh no,

But rain.

Rain, that which conceals pouring tears

Rain, that which hides us from our fears

Rain, that which calms the everlasting crying soul

It would be quite nice, you see,

Despite our harrowing travesty,

To find oneself lost in the rain

The rain, a serene solace to quell our wandering minds

The rain, a gentle friend to relieve our binds

The rain, a soft, percussive sound to drown our darkest thoughts from their yet darker abode

It would be quite nice, I guess,

To simply disappear into the mist

To find oneself so lost in the rain as to never return

To disappear, hidden in the swirling clouds

To disappear, pulled away from thoughts so loud

To disappear, to be whisked away to some quieter, safer world

It would be quite nice, I know..

To simply find oneself

Lost...

Lost in the gentle sounds and concealing clouds...

Of the rain