The rain, it poured in droves
And its sound comforting to old ears
It’s gentle tapping against the glass
Calmed the man as he waited for the storms to pass
When the world could be green again
His form was a silhouette upon the window
Only broken by the spidery cracks on the pane
A fleshless, shadowy figure, withered and decrepit
Smoke billowed behind, in the fight to stave
Off the biting cold, with its empty hunger
The man, he sits alone
And the thought is comforting to an old soul
His gentle rocking against the floor
Calmed the man as he waited for life to pass
When the world would be new again.
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