Why did roads get tired?
Why do they always keep moving?

Unbothered and indifferent—
About the weather's play...
Why are they oblivious to this relay?

Everybody watches...
But nobody feels.
Maybe they do!
Yet hide it - to heal.

Rain is moderating
his story and his cry.
A visibly audible outcry.

Jumbled droplets
on crumpled leaves

We missed the alchemy—
Turning soil into clay.
Are marshlands meant
just for toddlers to play?

My soul stays alone.
Lost in time.
Will somebody ever notice me?
or would I only live
in traces that faded.

Like it always happens,
in memory of time.