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.