Soaked in Rainfall

What I like the most about rainfall is being hushed. Disguised. Masked.

It won’t let anybody see what is the desire of the heart. Not even a single flask.
Soaked in Rainfall will this soul be. Afraid to find shelter, embracing what’s asked.
“Live a life,” they said. But how could it be? Around the corner of a street, being tasked.

Lightning. A horrible sensation. It will still find its way. One way or another.
Like any other human being, I am flashed with the truth, but I don’t even bother.
I remember the time looking for the safest place. Not to hide but instead to deliver.
The same mistake I made is much worse, but I don’t want to remember.

But then I realize, nothing is safe around this corner of town. Not even in the light.
Everyone else is going through something they could not lay down. Everyone’s in a fight.
Some things are worth the argument. Some things shouldn’t even be slight.
This one’s my battle, though. Being soaked in rainfall must not be my lame excuse for tonight.

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