I sat in my chair as I could hear the gentle taps of rain on my roof
Are the clouds crying for me?
Is the wind angry at my misfortune?
Or are they angry whispers of theirs
I sat in my chair as I could hear a howling of gusts
A torrential rain that began to deafen all else
I wonder if this was for me
Be it to listen, or to feel
But the meaning, is one, you steal
