The Rain

I walk the road. The one that was laid before me. Above, the clouds still stand. A dark shadow overhead. I feel as though I have been here before. I look around. But familiarity has lost its hold in memory. I have no remembrance of this place. Just a feeling. That the dark is nothing new. I've dealt with it once before still uncertainty grips my thoughts.
As I walk the rain falls. Each drop splatters on the ground. I look to the dome above. Does the world cry too? I look to it for answers. It gives none. But I didn't expect it to. I walk under a tree and sit. Me and the pouring rain. I remember the wanderers from before. Sometimes I wonder if the world knows the pains of each soul.
Now I wonder if each soul knows the pain of the world.
So I watch the rain fall. In each drop I see a story. A memory.
A tear for the ones forgotten.
A drop for the ones in pain.
A cry for the ones who are lost.
And so the world weeps.
And I wonder.
 Is peace found at the road's end?
Or in the journey along the way?
I guess I'll find it either way. I hope I find it. But at least for now as the rain shows no sign of leaving. I walk.
An hour in the rain.