In the quiet of night, when shadows grow long,
Comes the soft patter of rain's gentle song.
It taps on my windows with fingers so light,
Whispering secrets of the world outside.

Each drop a story, a memory to tell,
Of distant places where dreams often dwell.
They dance on the roof, a rhythmic refrain,
Echoes of laughter, echoes of pain.

In the corners...