Pain
I felt a painful blain, during the feverish slackening of repeating rain
The pain far worse than a usual swell, reminds me how it rains in hell
If the drops could not perish from their comfort zone, my wound would want to make a moan
More than a red mark; as the rain continues, I felt my wound hit by a spark
The pain goes on like a wheel cart, only stopped when it loses its spiel
I wished the hectic drops would retreat, one step to become a memorable defeat
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