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Rain comes, rain goes; rain’s destructive, you never know.
She asked the people around, why they like the rain.
They said, "It signifies love, power, serenity,
And washes away the false self of one."
"We love rain, for no one can see us crying in it."
Rain is a time when memories are refreshed,
For some, it’s the first; for others, the last.

Whatever was said, did not satisfy her.
She still hated it to the core, for it was just an annoyance.
But when he asked, “I like rain. Do you?”
She was struck silent for a moment, her lips trembling to say, "Yes."
She didn’t know why she agreed,
But she knew, her perspective shifted for him, in that instant.

Her hatred for rain stemmed from a younger self,
Mind troubled, questioning, “Why this mask?”
She kept it unanswered, abandoned the truth.
Every rain, he’d ask, “Isn’t rain lovely?”
And she would say "Yes" and her answer never changed.

Now, growing gray together, he asked with a smile,
"Do you like the rain, because of me?"
She giggled, then said, "I love you loving the rain..."
He, knowing this from the start, watched patiently,
Later, she gazed at their wedding photo, repeating her faded words:
"I hated rain for the destruction it brought,"
But this time, it destroyed my hatred for it.
Rain comes, rain goes; rain’s destructive, you never know.

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