A love like yours
Has got me weeping at unknown doors
To be heard,
To be mourned,
To be something,
Under this sky above.

I had to pray
Thunderstorms in my way
When you would never stay
A price too big you asked me to pay.

And I can't undo the candles
The lightning and the thunders
And the passion I poured into you,
You truly never had a clue
All I did was for you.

It’s thunderstorm country around here.
They roam the boiling, hot, southern skies
on legs of lightning, like dark, angry trolls.

My Chinese roommate is impressed with them
because as menacing and mountainous and electrical
as they seem, through the trees whip and the rain
lashes - like special effects - no real damage is done.

Love is like that, a circus briefly coming to town,
that scintillates, palpitates, irritates or validates
- a carney-call with the urgency of a sale.
“Run away and join the show,” it whispers.

Love is both less than it seems and more than it is.

If loneliness is a memory that tastes like
cigarette smoke and *** soaked ash
I have lived it a thousand times.
If the endless nothingness of being lonely swallows me again and again,
like waves on a beach,
Leaving me to drown again and again-
Leaving me gasping for breath in a moment of mercy.
If loneliness tastes like getting caught in a thunderstorm in an unfamiliar place
And there is no one to comfort you,
Then I have been left in the cold for what feels like an eternity

Sun is now packing its bag,
Showing everyone its vacation's flag.
Taking a small leave from its harsh duty,
Just to give us a glimpse of beauty.

Now, the blue sky is dressing grey,
Cool breezes are blowing all through the way.
Everyone's having a charm on their face,
Also, carrying a strange happiness.

Today, the birds seems to be playing flute,
Even the voice of crow's sounding very cute.
Frogs are croaking like a guitar,
The wind is behaving as a rockstar.

The roaring clouds are clashing,
Thunderbolts in sky are flashing.
Every creature is feeling confident,
Lovely rain showers 're making the day pleasant.

Raindrops are making morning bright,
Thunderstorms are striking at night.
I'm enjoying a new life in the month of "JUNE",
Today, the great nature is welcoming "the sweet MONSOON". . .

Watching the lightning, listening to thunder
Did I do the wrong or right thing
It’s got to make you wonder
What tomorrow might bring
to tear it all asunder.

Splitting our limbs and bringing the pain
Leaving us torn
We wonder why it came
But the fiercest storms
still bring the rain.

We try to hold on to what we forgot
Not to grow up and throw it all away
But the storm has taught
That life finds a way
And branches heal like it or not.

I miss my fiends and I miss my youth
If I could go back I don’t know what I’d do
Branches bend and on time moves
All things end but the search for truth

Africa:
It is a lost place
One thinks of sunny
Blue skies
And then thunderstorms

Of running through
Vast, vast, vast
Open grasslands

Of cooking on a fire,
Of looking out
Over the hills of our
Homeland, homeland, home -
Land, land, land