While the droplets of cold hail fall down on the muddy ground,
A flower blooms, a life borns, and death watches from afar.
Sometimes, people run from the mercy,
Sometimes, they enjoy it.
And sometimes, they don’t care;
Whether they get wet, or get cold, or have runny nose.
As the sound of storms smack against the window,
a cup of hot chocolate must be by our side,
to calm our souls, and ease our minds.
It’s okay, it’s just rain.
but what if there’s a flood,
what if it’s a deadly torment?
A mere punishment?
Coldness wraps us with a bit of fear,
A book for distraction,
or talking for hours with a friend or family member;
would soothe the hearts, and bring close the loved ones and dear.
Sometimes, a rain is just a rain.
It’s what most people wait for,
what most people ask for.
Under the rain,
There are laughters,
talks; some vain, some meaningful.
It gives us a bit of happiness,
for most people, it turns out to be a sad day,
threads of meloncholy sway around them,
clouds of darkness follow them.
Drip, drop, drip, drop,
the rhythm helps me sleep at night.
Tranquility kisses my cheek,
and whispers a soft goodnight.