There was a grave silence in a deserted lane,
It was raining cats and dogs yet the silence screamed,
Sounds that were alive became dumb out of the blue,
Because the lane tasted the bewails.
Stood alone in the pouring rain with a dejected heart,
It has taught me so much about life in a single night,
It's not the soul that mourned but nature did too,
The rain became a companion to a sorrowful soul,
Tears could barely speak the pain,
And so the rain spilled from the cloud.
The cloud borrowed tears from the broken heart,
And it silenced the disheartened soul with its downpour,
For an afflicted soul nature mourned,
Rain tasted the defeat than a soul which experienced it,
Grave silence wasn't horrible, since noise had no scope.
Rain listened to the pain that the world denied,
Swollen eyes gazed at the rain and found no difference in tears,
Raindrops and tears were similar in the way they poured,
Whenever the cloud cries people tend to avoid it with an umbrella,
Unlike the rain, it comforts the broken soul. 

.    .    .