The raindrops were hitting
the window glass,
performing a mysterious dance.
When this was happening,
she used to sit close and watch
as the drops were crashing
against the window.
The rain was getting more intense,
more strong, more strident,
preventing from hearing anything else,
other than that sound.
Everything ceased to exist for her.
The rain grew like a big tree
over the other trees,
wanting to take them down.
The wind was blowing
in a dizzying way.
The night was getting closer
sad and rainy, cold and gloomy.
Everything was tense and calm,
in peaceful terror;
in a disturbing agony
and in an anxious wait.
And it was raining,
it was raining non-stop...
The trees seemed to be waiting
resigned their fate,
like the elderly
they're waiting for death.
It was a hollow feeling,
totally empty,
devoid of all emotion
that oppressed the heart.
And the rain grew,
it grew without being able to stop...
The tension was accelerating,
a cold sweat ran down her face
and an indecipherable emotion,
contained her soul.
The rain sang its sorrows,
relieving their pain,
calming her choked cry.
The ashtray full of cigarette butts,
was on the table by the window;
she gave it a sideways glance,
sighing with resignation
thinking that those cigarette cadavers
resembled her grieving soul.
There, in the distance, a path
of darkness of immense loneliness,
was appearing before her eyes.
It was like an abandoned road,
lost in the infinite;
there was no notion of time.
She didn't seem to mind, though,
it was like that the same the world would
have stopped its march.
Source for Royalty Free Images, edited with PhotoScape:
Cover, 2