My rain cluttered window appears forward,

but the only thing which will manifest,

past the falling tears, was now behind me.

Pressing against the cold glass, 

transfigured my face into a mess of colors.

And I count each drop collected.

Like the monkey I was, I pondered

in great fever to the men and women outside.

It was certainly in fever that I did such a thing.

Each movement of the shapes outside,

gave a large sensation to my curious mind.

For a better world may be possible.

And so I burn, burn, and burn.

Hoping to realize something in this hell,

but I guess the mind is an unruly animal.

And it does not tell me,

Whether or not I will break this window;

Or if I will continue to burn, in a fever.