There’s Something In This Rain

There’s something in this rain

That makes the world look like a painting.

And there is a little invisible

Force in this drizzle

That makes it fall

Like curtains of wet smoke.

And there are some memories too

In these tiny vagabond water-drops.

Or why else would my mind

Go back to those days?

Those wet days  

When my father held me close to him

Under that black umbrella,

As if it wasn’t water outside

But fire-drops.

And  there is a black hope in these

Murky crying clouds.

Or why else would my mind try

Picturing a world painted in

Diluted shades of water?

And amidst these millions of drops

There hides a face that I know

Yet, perhaps, unknown.

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About zeeshan

We are the twinkle in the eyes of oblivion.

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