Monsoon

The grey sky turn the trees emerald green.

The sky is grey and expectant;
Soon it will start raining again.
Looking through the window,
I wait for the showers to begin;
There’s a dull ache in the heart,
For all that could have been.

Every cloud has a silver lining ,
We all know the proverb.
Sometimes I want to add,
Every day is followed by night;
And so the circle continues,
Irrespective of the inhabitants,
Whose lives revolved around selves.

The drizzle has gathered momentum,
It is raining like there is no tomorrow.
Every drop hurling down hard;
Seems to be bursting out loud,
Bringing out grief, anger, frustration;
That had gathered over time.

The shower changes to a soft drizzle,
The pent up emotions spent.
The grey sky gives way to sunshine,
Everything is once more bright.
The sky breaks into laughter,
A child oblivious of all suffering.

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