The Rain Hits The Wilted Weather

 The Rain Hits The Wilted Weather

Seeing the days pass by with the form fluxing

Each day a day of ringing ceremony.

Time waiting to be changed with new beats blinking.

O that ebb of tides surprise me sometimes.

Now the good hides and seeks the bad,

Here learning dims and fades the nursery rhymes.

The far-scent of future rubs the today of light.

There, the being entangles in the rope of babel.

Scarce seems the patch of clear sun in sight. 

Still fancy to chase the sight of sun

Walking around the rifts of life as the same

The winter touches again, right across the ocean.

Had tried and fought the chills

Though it never calmed the base,

that kept coming alongside the grey hills.

Often talked with the inner sublime ghosts 

that surfaced in the deepest hole

In the brightest phase and when the soul boasts. 

The journey never ends beyond death

The case goes on with the self nevertheless 

the sparing thoughts that define the breath. 

Little do we know of the impending force

that lurks inside each soul

between 

the self that entangles and hits the course. 

To rescue and instill the power lost,

times we reach to the One to guard us beyond.

When sky-self curtains stream, inside the frost.

Recherché comeback to self achieves me together

In the frame of His unison, 

Though for a while, the rain hits the wilted weather.