It's supposed to rain.
Rain is nothing less than the tears of angels, who mourn for a soul lost in the emptiness. And the emptiness is when the heart has known pain too long, and finally feels anything no more. When the mind has thought so much, that it thinks no more. Leaving the body free and unguided. Leaving only the most primal of actions, for the mind no longer thinks, there is no logic. The heart no longer feels, there is no emotion. There is the animal left. There is only the beast. There is only the monster within.
It's supposed to rain... do the angels mourn for me?
