Torrential downpour shifted, cliffs pattering

on the glass window, the once noisy street —

paled in yellow faces, glimmering with city lights

I close my eyes, sudden droplets travel on the eyelids

Feel from the far sea-side, a cool faint spray smudges

a foggy vision, where I envision the old me.

Wind whistling, flashing of smoke waters, hot breathe blew as lavas—

Tumultuous, a madness — desolate in the void hums

A sweet, earthly delights capture the clean deaths,

died from old, dry, faded sunlights where now—

empty gazes sealed, close above board— really near

the bright flaming, soft glow poised in hold

trying to flare wings to exist within exist at all,

the sun goes down — close my eyes again hoping

for lamentations, the stream of my sensation

concealed rapture of growing up — the inner child never died,

it's a naught in the rain dust!

— 25th July, 2023