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Aditya Roy Oct 2020
Summer, summer tomorrow, comes with expectation
A day doth bring here its heat
She stares from the heavens with electricity
With a breeze lithe and scarce, it walks over the earth

Stately and respectful in her stride
She hides behind clouds, when out of sight
Her beauty tempers the mind and calms the nerve
A weather so delicate, not a degree or ray less or more

But, when comparing her breath
The heavens turn and stare, wondering what despair
Plagues the incomplete soul and a heart so bare
Like moons hidden from her nascent stare

Scorning the cold moon, the torn heart
Looks for the summer, while crying for heaven's arms
As a body everyone is single, as a soul never.

— The End —