Until The Monsoon Comes

The lush golden sand in this desert wide,

Doesn’t scream its thirst every night,

The pitch black sky doesn’t taunt,

In its abdicated refusal to give in,

The cracks at the seams of the parched soil,

Doesn’t scream its thirst every night,

It withers on and withers on

Until the monsoon comes…

A Frost is in the Air

The wind goes silent
As the grey sky stays on
The world feel violent
As you see the sunlight yawn.

A Frost is in the air
A world caught unaware
The tepid autumn has passed
Unleashed is the winter at last.

Barren streets in cloaks of white
Dried leaves rustling in the night
Tiny footsteps dance around trees
Dead branches quivering in the breeze.

A Frost is in the air
A world caught unaware
The tepid autumn has passed
Unleashed is the winter at last.