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L looked back towards the window;
the rain falling always relaxed him.
It made him remember that eventually,
everything comes to an end.
The rain swirls in clouds of grey,
safe and sound until it begins to fall.
Falling,
leaving everything you've ever known
to release out into the unknown.
Everything crashing,
dropping all around you,
no one to appreciate only you;
never anything special among all of the other,
slowly dying drops of grey.

They make everyone sad.
No one enjoys the rain;
it stops them from being healthy,
from playing,
from being warm and cozy,
from going to work and making money.
It interrupts life,
and it has to carry the guilt
and worry
and sadness
around on its light H20 coding.
L can rest at night,
though,
because he knows that after the pain,
the drawn out torture,
the little strips of liquid glass reach the ground
and splatter into nothingness.

They group into all of the life among the ground,
and the torture is over.
They don't have to worry anymore,
they don’t have to be sad anymore,
and they don't have to be bothersome anymore.
They are guilty of nothing.
They're just raindrops joining the Earth,
and their short turn at life is over.
It let L rest when he knew,
that all of this torture would end.
It would take time,
and he would lose a lot along the way,
and he would leave behind everything he's ever loved
or known to splatter across whatever is ahead of him,
but he has this short life now.

He has a short life that no one can destroy;
no one can touch but him.
He can lock himself away in the strings,
letters and numbers that create him
and ignore the sadness and annoyance he brings to others
and march through until the bittersweet end
that he was sure to meet.
That let him rest.
The promise of someday,
not having a tomorrow.