There is nothing like walking in the rain,
Feeling nature's power in the rawest form,
The rain, falling like angel's tears upon you,
Shattering against your skin, giving the world vegetative life from sorrow,
The thunder, the rolling, booming voice of God, spoken in the most ancient tongue,
A long forgotten language, the speech that died with Eden,
The voice of God booms down, filtered, altered through nature,
Lightning crackling through the falling tears of angels,
Illuminating the heavens, flashing when God cracks his whip,
Whipping the awful, sinning angels, thus the world feels the state,
The sorrowful state of heaven,
Walking beneath thus tragedy is quite the spectacle,
The air is so highly charged, like little wisps of a broken soul, floating about,
The ground is soft and wet, showing its true beauty without the eye of heaven's rays,
This world is not our own, time is spinning, the dimensions are cracked,
The storm rages and God negotiates with Time, offering his angels as payment,
The walk in the rain, through the tears of angels, the voice of God and his whip,
I stand, gazing, feeling the power of nature.