Saturday, October 6, 2012

Rain



'She burnt me. In vain.'

In little pieces they fall, 
Cool as ice, upon my cheeks,
They pour.
My boiling skin, they touch,
They splutter.
As they roll, they vanish,
Evaporate.
I hold out my hands,
They deviate.
I stand in a puddle,
They leak away.
They run, away, far,
Meandering,
Their escapade.
Loathing, the pouring,
As I count the drops,
It stops to rain.

I look around,
I burnt the rain. 

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