Ran to touch the sea, the holy Sun,
Towards the horizon.
Feeling it hard to face the men,
He hid, giving way for the moon.
Many grails of time got filled to teem,
And the moon with the stars
Stood in the night sky's frame.
A sacred silent night with its darkness.
And, then, rained water,
The tears of Sun, maybe.
Beamed through the shower,
The moonlight to my room.
I walked out to the tempting rain,
out from the walls of my room
That limited my dreams of life,
To dream in the world of fantasy.
'The Sun had the clouds
To cry high for him.
But men had only their shadows,
Which wept in the dark,' I thought.
Stare behind me, several masked faces.
Shine before me, the true stars,
Through the true tears of Sun.
And wept behind me, many hollow eyes.
The rain washed away, every word of greed
And the tinted faces of many, from the real world.
Taking me to a world of dreams,
Where none wore masks.
I was wet in the tears befell.
And I learned: true tears aren't salty.
Then, what have my brothers wept these days?
But, how many have I really tasted?
My robes got wet. I could change those.
So can be the robes of heart, perhaps,
In the realm of human race,
Where behind the wealth and chairs, was the chase.
'Dear clouds, could you cry for me,
When I die: for humane tears are mere trash.
Give me a word of promise.
I believe in you. You aren't a human.'
(A poem that I wrote for a competition under the topic 'A Walk in the Rain'.)
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