The Storm

The sound of the rain
Washes away the pain
As it falls outside the window.

The soothing pattering,
Like people chattering,
Without the implications of words.

It pours down heavy and light
Several times in one night,
But is usually gone long by the morn.

The storm has a life,
When enraged, it can cut like a knife,
But, as with all beginnings, there is an end.