In between the voids that fill this grey shroud,
Let me tell you about the day the sky lost all its clouds.
Parched was the earth, parched for love,
The rain of joy, the tremendous wave of tremulations and emotions,
All distant and untouchable like the horizon.
Cathartic were the repercussions,
Trepidation was surmounting.
Felt by so few,
Cared by fewer still, While each cranny and nook,
While each crevice and crook,
Shuddered for the lack of the breath of wind,
Shiverred for the lack of caresses from Him.
Intriguing was the phenomenon,
Disturbing was the dust that made eyes burn.
How does a sky be overcast,
Without the clouds it lost in the past?
How does a heart feel heavy,
When all it does is throb numbly.
Sans physical obstructions,
Sans any other way of retribution
Nothing to absorb the harmful rays,
Nothing protective remains,
And the crimson disc of the Sun, in the ether is floating,
Heralding death and other endings.
And slowly, the entire dome of the sky,
Fades into a blinding fire, scorching dry,
A dastardly scarlet of unexpected pain,
An apocalypse we'd never choose fain.
And now it's the colour of blood that shrouds,
The day the sky lost all its clouds.
YOU ARE READING
Muses
PoetryHere's a compilation of poems for you to enjoy. You'll find a mèlange of emotions here. Some sweet, some bitter. But at the end, you'll find yourself lost in the music of words, the rhythm of stanzas and the enchanting world of poetry.
