During the monsoon, all my raindrops drag me
Towards the fast lane of memories.
Taking with all the skies and the stretched blues.
Feeling not like the dead warriors
But the first saint under the young sun.
One day when we were dancing together
Hovering on the untold secrets of the battle fields
All the dead pawns of world history
From the past to the present
Mimicked us under the tone.

I have seen the first smile of the antithesis of God.
Not only the everyday hypothesis lies
But all the dead philosophies under the religious cult
Fooled us every time we thought
We have found Him.

Talking about the story of love all my raindrops
One day came to me.
We were so proud of each other
Touching the pride of faith;
Yet all the dead souls of cathedrals
Mimicked us underneath.

And then I have seen the first smile
Of the whispering secretes of life
Drawing the first sketch of the antithesis of God,
During our everyday monsoon.

27th April 2014