I never thought the sky could turn red, I never knew that the wind was never fed, I cannot see the unseen; nor taste and smell, I'd be there, I'd see it often too.
The feeling of raindrops on skin, Drop by drop; Trickling and prickling my cells, Washing the stains; under my shoe, The lightning and thunder, still makes me wonder, If there would be a rainbow, right after.
A moment that I'll never see, is myself; being so secure; Because I cry like the coming storm, I wonder why, the birds still fly, As storm goes abide, the cloud starts to die.
But soon as the plant on my grave; starts to bloom; My legacy lives on, as the storm whom brought doom.
I rarely recognise my incoherent behaviour. This is a piece where I realise my putrid self.