drizzle over me, until i transform into an eternal lake

a desert... whose thirst never quenches.

come rain, come storm- the yearning never ceases.


the dry cracks, no one can fill in. they might not show after a repleting shower; but for how long, my dear? how long? they'll come back. the tired, parched winds shall suck away every tiny bit of moisture in no time. and will they be wrong in doing so? but, not at all. we fight for survival, all of us, don't we?

the scorching sun, will be back tomorrow. more than willing to sear every inch of this surface.


it's never enough.

the comfort of a single rainy day, is not enough- by any means.

but then who knows what is enough...

perhaps, the yearning, the longing, is an intrinsic trait.

perhaps, there will never be enough..

a few million droplets of rain, are sweet. evanescent, nevertheless.

this wasteland, it often longs of a life as ephemeral as the sweetness of a pouring rain.

wishful thinking.