When a person breaks away from the society, from the consistent and mundane existence he lives in, I think he becomes the lost raindrop that falls during the scorching heat before the thundering monsoons. He falls first crashing into the blowing heat, maybe vaporised on its way, but lost to all, alone.
The Raindrop.
The Raindrop.
No heaven knows,
of a raindrop lost,
through the silence,
into the solitude.
from a burning charring cloud,
of desiccated dreams and stagnant thoughts,
Diving into a rushing future ,through qualm mists.
No ears to hear it spatter,
reminding the grey aging land,
of a approaching fragrance, intoxicating .
Lost to affection, lost to love,
For we can't see,
A Raindrop cry.
