yesterday noon’s rain stubbornly hanged to the atmosphere;
what if it is in pain, persistently erasing things from memoir?
yesterday morning the streets were busy; people going, coming;
behind the doors and windows, are they soothing bruises; bathing?
was it not storms, hunger, calamities, fear and doubts of existence
that named, implied, devised and marginalized hope with godliness?
yesterday noon’s rain stubbornly hanged to the atmosphere and
wasn’t it tranquillity that breezed through families staying inside?
now at night even the rain got tired and ended with soft lullaby,
isn’t this lullaby, the embracing cool wind that sends warmth inside
that every single soul on earth dreaming, chasing, desiring?
if there is something more precious will you just poke me,for I am going to sleep with rain’s lullaby, and teach me that secret?
After long hours of rain and wind, it is so cool, calm and soothing, so writing something in haste to go and sleep under a warm blanket; is it something so irresponsible?
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