A normal rainy day
Dark clouds, rhythm fused together
I am standing with my umbrella
As an unsaid rule
My hands catching the little drops
Seeing someone running
Someone waiting
But my gaze got struck with someone
Someone in WHITE with no rules
No ruthless runs
Every drops on him says a story
His Cargo's and White T-shirt are saying their own story
Left thinking is he so confident to let it ruin with the rain
His hair curling upto his eye lashes
His smile stands him out in the deamed rainy vision.
His jaw tightened when he looked up in freedom
His hands are close to his body but I can imagine them dancing
I said there is nothing new
But I am still in my unsaid rules
And he is joying freely.

What unsettled is gone
Dreams and longings are in same current
The warmth in sunshine just heating up the path.
The days repeat all the same.
The watchable sunsets has already moonlight.
Renowned Autumn already passed by.
Season and weather all shattered.
There comes winter,
My already cold body meets the cold air.
Just living in percussion.
How should I convey,
I'm lost inside.
The body is walking by.
Please, someone
Bring me a sunshine,
I'm under the moonlight.

I'm happy on green grass and blue sky above me, peace.
Remembering the day I cried, to day I crawled, day I walked it's all imagination.
Imagination is option when I know I did it but I can't remember but my attachments remember.
Every phase has attachment which is unbothered and undefined yet there.
When sky above me tells how free it is and grass below me tells me how lively it is, I understood it not just me but people around me makes me what I am.
The simple smile to heartfelt cry
To be cautious yet cheerful
Clumsiness and acceptance coming handy.
It's all attachments around me giving me.
I'm alone yet the memories starts the talk.
Someday the attachments may get to rigid.
To be ready for, that feeling is also important.
To confine the self-respect above all and everything even if it's special attachment.
So, the attachments are below me and self-respect is sky high.

I'll make everything myself
I'll never leave myself
I'll never glid the inch way
I'll never drop the happiness away
I'll ask myself what is good?
I'll repay the loan of motherhood
Today I'm in a great sleep
Thinking all this
Breathes are slow and cool
Something is different
I think I'm in great sleep
My mom is as always calling me loudly
My dad having breakfast silently
Nothing new
I could see everything but, I haven't woken yet
Am l in dream
There was a shiver silence when my mom came to me
What happened I don't know...
I slept with "their will be tomorrow".
Let my hands with no fear
But I didn't woke up
Their was no tomorrow.

What's right? What's wrong? What's in between?
I don’t know—irony!
Here I am, caught between them.

I know I love. That’s not wrong, but maybe the person is.
Is it attraction, infatuation, love? I don’t know.
Sometimes I almost worship this person.
I know it’s harmful, even devious, yet I can't turn back.

Now, I'm in deep, like cold water over my head.
All I remember is going back, giving chances for change.
It’s a loop.

The last time I smiled was in a rewritten spring.
Now, I'm an empty shell, compliant.
My innocence and self-esteem have left me—I'm all bone and skin.

I never understood the space between right and wrong.
Now, that special someone is just a facade.
My last words to complete are:
"Sunset is pretty, isn’t it?"