The rain..

There's something so aesthetically beautiful about rains,

The silent streets, the ebony night,

and the glistening trees,

as the drops carefully drench each of the leaves.

The melody they sing as they clatter against the roof,

the little race they hold,

as they glide along the window panes,

and the irresistible desire for a steaming mug of coffee,

that they create.

Slowly, as they cascade, they enthral the atmosphere,

into a serene mystery.

This right here is sheer magic,

I realize as I stand there, 

and feel drops descend on my skin.

Their touch, waking me up from my reverie,

bringing me back to life.

Their presence feels surreal,

as they alleviate my bruised soul.

I feel them wash away all my frets and fears,

as they slowly glide off my body,

and makes me wish, this never ended.

They cast a spell, so strong,

I know, to which I'm bound,

and from which there is no emancipation in any form.