*Rain's Lullaby** In the quiet hours of midnight, When the world holds its breath, Rain tiptoes upon rooftops, A clandestine lover seeking solace.
Each drop, a whispered secret, Tapping gently on windowpanes, A clandestine lover seeking solace, As if the sky weeps for our dreams. The leaves, like eager listeners, Bow down to catch the murmurs, Their veins drink the rain's confession, And the earth stirs in its slumber.
**Sleep**, too, arrives unbidden, A soft embrace for weary souls, Its arms cradle the day's worries, As raindrops weave a lullaby.
Together, they waltz—a duet, Rain's rhythm on the roof, Sleep's tender touch on eyelids, Guiding us into the dream's abyss.
And so we surrender willingly, To the symphony of raindrops, To the warmth of sleep's sanctuary, Where worries dissolve like mist.
In this quiet union of rain and sleep, We find solace, healing, and release, As the night enfolds us gently, And we drift, weightless, into dreams.
