𝐀 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰

Blue hues on gray mist, the morning tear
Of sky glistens on my lonely lawn
The call of sorrow is all I can hear,
Over the blankets of silence on the town.

Faded leaves falls behind the rain's monotone
The shy sunrise hurriedly hides behind the pale
of the monsoon cloud; in the blurry afternoons
My days dance on a steady grayscale.

The landscape glowing in the purple thunder light—
that curses the town, the fire burning bright
by the forest line, I see destruction before my eyes,
When the phoenix will arise —
from the ashes? Or maybe the last resurrection
fell into ashes too with the saddened shower
mourning for the death of creativity
'fore the funeral hour?

The piano playing from afar stopped abruptly,
I am left drowning in a silence so deadly
Except the howling wind that threatens to break—
the fragile glasses that protect my homely cage.

The rain's cry followed by a lost swallow
Reminds me of the time I screamed for help
that never came and I was left so hollow
that I felt soulless and let my mind delve
in a world of nihilism, a sheer opposite
of what I was, but couldn't see past it
And my bright world was no more sunlit.

The strong gust of wind on my window
Dissolves into the rain's mellow
Like the soft cries of a heartbroken couple—
in the dark room, as they recall their struggle.

With the foreshadow of gloom, I see the rain bleed
in distress, for a soul lost over some deceitful plead.
I let it forecast my future too, similar to the rain
When I shall love and lose you, again.