Perhaps nothing remains to see,
In the ceaseless rain's symphony,
Quiet streets, a path unseen,
All vanished, as if in a dream.
Where are you, clouds on high?
Where's the bustle's joyful cry?
Which way leads to my abode?
Lost in thoughts, an enigma showed.
I sense your plan, cloud's uproar,
Hidden path through the downpour,
You ponder gains, economic lore,
My path entwined, forevermore.
A puzzle deep within my mind,
Long-hidden plans of a different kind,
Now I understand your scheme so sly,
In whispered truths, secrets lie.
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