No words came into view.
For a moment,
you became blunt.
And then you came back,
listening to inaudible whispers of the rain.
Stop pretending.
It is too much,
an uproar, rather.Stay away from it.
Leave if you must.
As if the droplets would care.
It will not cease to exist,
will continue to fall,
not stopping,
ignoring your presence,
silently apologizing on how well it lied.Don't.
A lump in its throat has formed.
It rained and rained.
But this time,
the whispers are nowhere near
from being something
you could get a hold of...
something that is too crucial to not agree with.Still, don't.
Stay if you must.
Until you see
its ray of colours.Stay.
YOU ARE READING
Wonder In Chaos
PoetryJust a collection of poems I be writing whenever I feel like doing so.