Complaint of A Deprived Rain Lover

There is something over my house,that doesn’t like the rain,lest I shall be happy as a peacock. Winds blow stronger and strongest,pushing away the clouds from southto the farthest of north. A thunder,a single thunderand that is all I get of the feeling,of something that would be rain. I am deprived more and most deprived,as

Compassion.1