Rain falls from the sky in relentless torrents of despair.

...Bound by nature's austere authority, the glistening drops of dew are inexorably drawn from the heavens...

Behind a shuddering window-pane, a man watches the storm with eyes devoid of life.

...His path is inextricably interwoven with that of the circumstance he observes...

Caught in this merciless maelstrom of fate, he struggles in a vain attempt at freedom.

...Yet the cloth of Destiny is woven too tightly for strength alone to prevail...

In defeat, the man's longing gaze shifts to a time prior to the present...



Through the hazy delirium of his losses, he views an exuberant young boy, and is comforted.

...But the solace of this image is quickly whisked away by the winds of change...



As curiosity is invoked by nostalgia, he questions the cloud-obscured stars:
"How could I allow myself to become an anathema to this fleeting glimpse of my youth?" ...



Unheard by the world, his musings float on the diaphanous mists of loneliness.

...Only to be engulfed by the hostile downpour...



Hope now lost, he permits his morbid thoughts to speed down the rails of his disintegrating psyche.

...Thus he plunges into a state of mind that transcends reality...



Just as the rain must inevitably reach the ground in cadence with Mother-Earth's drums, he has arrived at his pre-determined destination:

...Dementia...