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Amani Niros Khan Jul 2019
Pondering,
Here I sit,
The small grains of sand I feel beneath me,

The low riffling of water,
I could hear,
Although the lake is near,
I hear it far,
More than near,

The atmosphere becomes gloomy,
The sky cracks,
Horrible and terrific,
Is the sound,

Heavy rain begins to pour,
Ssshhhh!
I shiver and squinch with pain,
With each and every drop touching me,

The rain stops,
The sound stops,
But the gloom never ends...

— The End —