my world seems to be under your umbrella
after you've decided to paint it black
your black umbrella prevents light from entering
just like how I can't feel the heat from the earth

the world became pitch-dark and sometimes,
hopefully grey
your umbrella casts a gloomy shade on the ground
just like how
my world seems to be under your umbrella

cold and clammy in the midst of the downpour
the wind howls and growls
ironically, the landscape is still
motionless and deadly quiet just like
the death of my senses and
my inability to feel the heat from the earth