The etchings of rain on dusty window pane,
Eyes transfixed with no shame.

Once it started to spread, covering the entire frame,
World became distorted, eyes craved more.

Slow but steadily the desire swelled,
If only the rains could wash away the eyes.

Yet the hand shivered to let it in,
Only eyes realised the importance.

The myriad ways of water on glass,
Simple yet intricate, almost omniscient.

Then the downpour, unbridled violence,
Eyes dared, letting it in.

Flooding the eyes, no barriers to rain,
Closed in harmony with cosmos, death.

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