This Rain Colder Than Snow

This rain colder than snow beats on the lonely poet's heart sadder than a hummingbird deserted by all; are his tears less human, less tender than anyone imprisoned by loneliness? Hasn't he loved enough, hasn't he consoled souls in times of solitude, where's his reward? Heaven was above his head shielding him, and Hell in front of him tempting his thoughts to steadily err, guess who won and how relieved he was not to have easily fallen into sin! This rain colder than snow shows no empathy, only sorrow; and staring at the pitiful hummingbird, my flesh is being pierced by a sword, and though I don't bleed, my feeling is profoundly hollow when it should be filled with hope... that hope more powerful and more solid when a promise is spoken and delivered, never groping for an answer or hanging on a thin rope and be frightened by fear! This rain colder than snow freezes up the euphony of words pleasing to ears longing for sweet sounds that are often heard on idyllic days with harmonious melodies and vibrant colors; shouldn't I exchange these raindrops, turning into ice crystals, for a rainbow... for a spring that sets the evening horizon aglow?