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Updated: Mar 6

It’s raining outside,

Raining after an eternity;

Unlike other days, today is different.

Oh! What a lie?

Every day is different.

The clouds has descended

Upon our small hamlet,

Of one street, one well,

Few lampposts and open moor.

I can’t see, beyond the dark clouds,

Where the mountain meets the sky,

Yet I can smell

The rain has brought,

Of the meadows and pastures of those highlands;

Where my sheep are free souls.

The night is cold and windy;

And leaves are rustling in symphony

Of nature’s orchestra.

The song is beautiful, the moment is wonderful;

Few notes are scary; it might be the thunders,

But it’s raining and it’s blissful.

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