Small hot summers are gone
wet long monsoons are here
the monsoon showers have fed,
the flora, while the fauna danced!
the yellow dish became obscured
completely by the spongy clouds.

My legs went through the corridors,
and fingers through the spats!

My body was drenched, however
the soul was dry,
the eyes were seeking someone
my ankles started to quiver.

My fasttrack needles mourn his absence
But…

But I have no retort.

Oh my, mate! I can’t…

I can’t reply them with your departure.
I have kept your favorite lilies,
today on your stone!

Wherefore, it’s my last breath.

Hope I would find the blue eyes,
which reminds me of the silent sea.
Hope I would meet you,

even though you have first left,
taking my turn, instead.