The sky was enormously crying for mercy. The lightning threatened my ambitions with the fakest empathy.
No more could I feel what I felt, but the earthy fragrance kept me motivated.
A little drop descended on my forehead, slowly drifted down my cheek and fell on the floor. Hundreds, thousands and a million drops fall hitting the ground, punishing it for being so distant from the sky. It rains in an irregular tempo, just as the mood swings of any human alike.
No more can I feel what I felt, but who’s to take care of my aggression.
The clouds are narrating all their anger, all the burden they carried from the hilly slopes to the isolated desert.
No more can I feel what I felt, but I’m aspirational, those clouds gave me another to lead myself with.
The statement the sky has given, why she won’t give up on her grudge, is because she wants the earth to keep shut. As it’s asked, the earth kept quiet and intently listened, for his personality is to be alike.
No more can I feel what I felt, but there I see the so long unseen ray of sunshine I’m feeling that again.
What felt that’ll never exist again came back in an instant when the sky was made to see her existence is what we want, it’s what we see and what to see, her bright and glowing face with a beautiful ornament. And of course after all she went through, she’s newer and brighter, and as different as it should be. She found herself a new sunny day and a rainbow’s her change. If you’d just listen intently, the thunder inside and outside of someone can be stopped and a sunny side can be embraced as usual.