Allowing the sprinkling droplets all over me,
The icy downpour maybe a sight to see.
But it soaked me enough drowning my hopes.
A faint voice calls me to hold the ropes.
The murderous sky held my griefs
Robbing my peace, the thunder became my thief.
They made me scared, yet gave flash.
Flash of security and tranquility amidst the clash.
The heaviness of rain stilled,
Quickened me to find a shield.
The rain held various sentiments,
From cleansing to melancholic amendments,
From anger to love eminent,
From life to death resentments .
It fell, heart gave blasts
Alas, nothing lasts
The showers departed flourishing life.
Eyes followed the bee plunge into the hive
The faint golden glimmer passes the way,
Directing towards new hopes for a new day.
I squint my eyes way towards sunshine,
Hoping just as the weather, everythin' would be fine.
Dampness of the soil, of the trees and Flocks
of birds and enchantment in locks
The soothing petrichor
Anticipations in the depth of well
The seven variant colors, a sight to see,
Depicting the tough refraction that the brightness took to flee.
YOU ARE READING
The Mountain Swing
PoetryLife An Aspect of existence To flourish, to mould, to garnish the wonderful place we live in. A word that cherishes the beauty, but is always at stake to the gloomy hardships, that pounce in the blink of an eye. We may disappear into the journey of...
