There was once a man in a journey’s roam, whereby wherever he went, would a cloud follow and this cloud which was grey, dark and dull, would hang over this man wherever he did go. On days from this cloud would rain often fall, wet the man would become and it would appear the rain was his befall. However, the saying often goes that some walk in the rain and others just get wet; well of course, this man did get wet, but not to his demise, for he too walked with the rain. This man had a journey to which the cloud and persistent rain followed and in his journey’s end would this man have a meeting with a beautiful woman. When meeting this beautiful woman, did she gaze before the soaked man, but she did not at all hesitate upon his presence to hurry into his drenched arms and there together under the grey, dark and dull cloud which was still pouring with rain, did they meet each other’s lips. Their hair was wet through and their cheeks trickled with drops of fallen rain; they kissed with a never-ending passion. Saddened might deceive, but let it not fool you that a person is in sadness because of the way they may roam. Sometimes their happiness is just elsewhere to be seen.