Monsoons of cool rain,
like manna from God, deluge
the sun-parched jungles.
Like manna, monsoons
deluge the sun-parched jungles
with torrents of rain.
The rains weave a silent story...
Uncertain whether of glee or misery...
The twilight is blurred by the relentless droppings...
That say a thousand ethereal things...!
Whether it is the revelry of rain...
Or the depression of lyrical pain...
The night emerges with a doubtful moon...
Unsure of the mood of the monsoon...!
On the ground,the leaves are spread...
Like a thousand soldiers dead...
And the street-light,too, wet appears...
It is hard to say if these are real tears...
The city still needs time to recover...
From the trauma of the testing summer...
But the monsoons have come like good news...
However the latent motives still confuse...
The streets are lonely like the skies...
Like the loneliness of deserted eyes...
Drop by drop,the rains keep falling...
As though the earth is silently calling...!
Amid the solitude and wet aura...
One could see the helplessness of flora...
The truth is still,largely,unclear...
But the departure of summer is something to cheer...
The monsoon is really unpredictable...
Whether it is a dream or a trouble...
Whether it is a break to monotony...
Or the messenger of some melancholy....!
Monsoons
Monsoons came down the night was wet, recalling memories of the night we met.
Just like the tears within my heart, the rain descends as dreams depart.
Where is the morning, hopeless plight, I’ve only darkness eternal night.
My soul full spent, no trace remains, to lose your love beyond all pain.
Wounds bleed so deep, yet won’t depart, you gave such love then crushed my heart.
Your love consumed my sky and sea, the "one" you choose, now lost is me.
Lawrence Schrank
APOM
Short happy curls
dewy from the rain
begging for your fingers
to tangle in them again