Rain clouds float in silently
like ghosts fighting off death
Raindrops drum the sloped roofs
a primitive beat
resonant
vibrations from a distant land

People rush to escape their fate
but no one can run from destiny
What’s meant to happen, will happen
what doesn’t happen
was never meant
Get drenched and be happy

Mountain tops are meant for gods
everything else, claimed by man
and he tries to climb to meet him
his spirit soars
and falls
The rain doesn’t bother the dead