The tear drops of rain,
Sleeping over my windowpane,
A soul above must be in pain,
A memory trapped in a frame,
Lighting and thunder in the sky,
He must be feeling restless,
Because feelings don’t die,
The clouds are grey and dark,
While I hear the skylark,
Singing a dirge for him,
The sun too looked dim,
I was chilled by the sudden storm,
Couldn’t make out what was wrong,
It looked as if I was inside someone,
An abandoned land with no one,
Saw the old stains on the glass,
It must be his dead past.